Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: sex pollen and therefore DUB CON, use of restraints, dirty talk, descriptions of previous injuries/blood/violence, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral (m and f receiving)
Summary: When Loki is drugged on a mission , he begs you to restrain him because he knows he won’t be able to keep his hands off you—but the restraints don't hold.
Notes: Thank you to my bestie that suggested this alternate version of Unfettered😁 Have fun !
You were sitting on a chair in Banners lab tagging all the jars he asked you to , when the door opened suddenly . You knew it was Loki returning from his mission . He doesn’t said a word , so you didn’t bother looking up from your task when he strode into the lab .
He slapped the control on the wall and kept his hand pressed firmly to the panel, frozen in place, as the door closed slowly. You caught the limited movement in your periphery while you worked, thinking vaguely that he must be exhausted.
“How’d it go?” you asked, rubbing the dirty jar you was holding before putting the tag on it .
Loki didn’t respond. No sigh, no grunt. Nothing.
That grabbed your attention. Loki was never talkative, often relying on one-word rejoinders, but he always answered direct questions, especially from you. Lately, he was even initiating conversations during the times he met you around the tower .
You looked up and were surprised to see that there was none of the other Avengers in sight—it was just Loki standing by the door , his hand still pressed to the control panel like he couldn’t bring himself to move. He looked… agitated. You could read the tension in his body; the fist hanging by his side was clenched and his shoulders were drawn up.
“Loki ?” you asked, the confusion apparent in your voice, as you set the jar down and got to your feet.
“No.” Without moving from his position, he whipped his head around and held up a palm to halt your advance. “Don’t… Don’t come any closer.”
He pointed a threatening finger at your chest. “Stay. There.”
You were so shocked by his unexpected command that you obeyed, staying rooted to the spot.
That’s when you really took in his appearance: he was shaking, the hand pointed at your chest trembling slightly. His armor was dirty—smeared with what was unmistakably blood. His chest was heaving as if breathing alone was a herculean effort.
When he saw that you were listening to him, he nodded stiffly and wrenched his hand away from the wall. With leaden steps, he walked over to the storage crate and dragged it into the middle of the floor. Each of his mechanical movements looked like it required every ounce of his control to execute.
He grunted, ignoring your question again. You watched in stunned silence as he stripped off all of his daggers, even his cape and spare ammo, with stunted, jerky motions and dropped them on the floor .
He took 4 thick heavy chains and the collar that Tony created to prevent him from using his powers and without a word he got out the lab and went straight to the interrogation room .
He put the collar around his neck , then started to chain his own ankles , one by one .
You followed him , watching him in complete shock.
“Loki , what the fuck are you doing ?!”
He whipped his head up to look at you and commanded: “Help me with this.”
You scrunched your eyebrows together: “Why?”
“WELL IM NOT GOING TO CHAIN ….”
Before you could even finish your sentence, he snarled: “Just shut up and fucking help me.”
You stood there, dumbstruck, and cycled through several emotions in rapid succession. Your initial shock was immediately replaced by irritation as you registered his rude words. Anger flickered brightly across your consciousness, but it was quickly supplanted by confusion: he had never spoken to you in that tone of voice, let alone told you to shut up. Finally, fear settled in, thick and weighty, like a fog threatening to choke you.
You approached him slowly, kneeling on the other side of the tangle of chains.
“What happened to you?” you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.
He jerked away immediately, so quickly that he almost lost his balance. He thrust out an arm to steady himself on the wall behind him.
“Don’t—don’t touch me. Please.” His voice was suddenly small, almost quavering.
Your heart rate kicked up again.
“Lo, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”
He looked up at you, voice slightly softer but still firm and urgent. “Help me with this, then I’ll explain.”
You stared at him and said nothing for a long moment , not sure what to do next .
“Please, Y/n” he repeated
He was begging you. That was when the real fear sank in.
Without another word, you helped him get the wrist cuffs in place. Then, standing beside him, you followed his directions as he instructed you to secure the ends of the four chains: two to bolts on the wall, and two to bolts on the floor. The two on the wall were affixed to his arm restraints, the two on the floor to his ankles. Initially, you left slack in the chains, plenty of room for him to move, but he insisted that you tighten them enough so that his back was almost flush to the wall and he couldn’t extend his hands out any further than the natural reach of his long arms.
He sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, when you clicked the last restraint in place.
You looked up at him. Loki was strung up against the wall , arms hanging by his sides, suspended about a foot away from his body, and his legs were splayed slightly in a wide stance, boots a couple feet apart.
If you weren’t so worried about what was happening, you’d definitely be having some… ideas. They were completely inappropriate ideas, especially considering the stark reality that the two of you were nothing more than colleagues .
“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “Now, p-please, step away from me.”
You reluctantly complied, taking several careful steps backward, keeping your gaze trained on his eyes .
“Okay, I did what you asked. Now tell me what happened.”
His breathing was still labored. “H-hit with a bio-dart, aphrodisiac drug. Strong… Heard of them before, but never encountered one until now.”
You gave him a skeptical look, raising one eyebrow, “…An aphrodisiac drug as a weapon? I thought that was a myth.”
You surveyed him again as the reality of the situation washed over you.
He continued, words spilling out of his mouth in a rush like he was running out of time to explain : “H-had to get back to the tower . Didn’t trust myself. Left everybody there. I’ll go back later if they’ll still need me . No-no time to... I had-had to—before I—”
His whole body tensed suddenly, cutting off his own sentence, and he threw his head back as an ugly, feral sound tore from his chest.
You stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?”
You panicked, desperately trying to think of some way to help him as he flailed.
He writhed for another moment then thankfully stilled, slowly raising his head to look at you again. He sounded wrecked when he spoke again: “No, no. It doesn’t hurt, not exactly. Not yet at least. It’s—it feels like…” He trailed off, glancing toward the floor.
You prompted him: “Like what?”
Before he could answer you, another wave wracked through him, and he thrashed against the restraints. You fought the urge to cross the space and soothe him. Even in the most stressful, life-threatening situations, Loki was always the picture of composure: calm, collected, calculating. So, it was unnerving to see him like this—overcome and out of control. You were itching to touch him, to ease his discomfort somehow. After another moment, he recovered.
When his eyes found your face again, he rasped: “It feels like if I don’t fuck you right now, I’m going to die.”
His words hit you like a slap in the face. You swallowed hard, staring at him… all thoughts suddenly gone, mind completely blank.
He filled the fraught silence, straining forward slightly, his voice dipping an octave: “I want to fuck you so badly, baby.”
Your heart dropped at the unexpected pet name, a wave of wetness unapologetically gathering between your thighs.
Fuck. This was not at all the situation you had imagined—Loki drugged and chained up—but you had definitely dreamt of him saying some version of those words to you… on a regular basis, like maybe every night you ever spent in the tower since the day you met him .
He spoke again, trembling as he said: “This is fucking torture, you standing there, looking like that. And I can’t even fucking touch you. Shit. Shit. Shit. I want to—I want to touch you.”
Without your explicit permission, your feet moved you one step forward.
Loki shook his head back and forth violently, head jerking like he was trying to clear unwelcome thoughts by sheer force. “Odin’s beard , this is really fucking with my head. I’m-I’m sorry—I’m not myself.”
Only one question came to mind, one thing you were desperate to know.
You waited, holding your breath, hoping he knew exactly what you were asking him.
He snapped his head up, meeting your gaze. He sounded surprisingly sober for a moment. “No. It’s not,” he stated bluntly. “I always want to fuck you. It’s just now I… I can’t control that urge.”
Suddenly, the room felt hot, suffocatingly so. You inched forward again.
His confession flooded you with courage. “What if… what if I want you to fuck me?”
Loki whined, body convulsing, shoulders collapsing forward as far as they could against his arm restraints. You were so shocked by the foreign sound that you actually took a step back—you’d never, ever heard him make a noise remotely close to that. You’d cauterized gaping wounds for him, removed a jagged blade from deep in his thigh, witnessed him take a sword the side, sutured countless lacerations with no local anesthetic… but you’d never heard him whine. It was high and needy, desperate and pathetic .
“Don’t-don’t say that, please don’t fucking say that to me right now… please… I c-can’t handle it.”
The chains creaked ominously, the links clanking together as he shifted against them.
“But, I mean it. I always want you to fuck me too,” you continued, ignoring Loki’s feeble requests.
You squeaked and flinched back again when he suddenly lunged forward, hands gripping the chains and pulling hard. His arms and legs were immediately wrenched back, his torso straining toward you. He panted: “Gods, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of you saying-saying that to me, kærasta.”
Even through his situation , his stare was scalding, his gaze scorching your skin as he surveyed you, his eyes trailing all the way down and back up your body.
He jerked his head to the side suddenly, tearing his gaze away, and whined again—more quietly this time, more resigned. When he said the next words, you could hear how tightly his jaw was set: “Not like this. I-I won’t fuck you for the first time like this. I-I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you.”
You took another, much larger step forward.
He whipped his face up to watch you again. His voice was dangerous now, menacing, as he growled: “Yes, yes—I will. You don’t understand what this feels like. I can’t control myself—it’s a fucking miracle I didn’t take you the moment I walked back onto the lab and saw you sitting there—so fucking gorgeous—and it’s only gotten worse.” He let out another frustrated growl, then continued: “I don’t just want to fuck you, I want to wreck you, I want-want to wreck you until you can’t walk and then fuck you again. I want to tear you apart. Ruin you with my cock.”
He said those words like a threat, but you couldn’t help the way they sent heat coursing through your veins, a shiver down your spine. You stepped toward him one more time. You were almost within his reach.
“DON’T,” he ordered, voice deadly serious. “Really, I can’t control myself. S-stay back.”
Even as he told you to stay away, though, he reached a hand out for you, legs and arms straining forward, trying to get closer to you. His mouth was saying one thing, his body begging for another.
You stayed where you were, just out of his reach, and asked: “How long will this last?”
“I don’t know… I hope no longer than a few hours. It’s already been at least an hour since I got hit. But it’s-it’s gotten worse.”
You could hear the exhaustion and exertion in his voice. He was barely holding it together, and you knew you needed to do whatever you could to make this easier on him, not harder. So, you shoved down your own selfish desire and with great reluctance, stepped away from him. You sat down on the floor across from him and said, “Then, I guess… we’ll wait it out.”
He nodded vaguely, leaning against the wall behind him with a loud sigh.
You sat in uncomfortable silence for several long minutes. You busied yourself by playing on your phone . Every so often, the restraints jangled loudly when Loki was wracked by a brutal surge of need and struggled violently. You tried your best not to flinch every time it happened.
Eventually, he disrupted the silence by saying your name.
Before you even looked up at him, though, you knew—you knew that the Loki you’ve known was gone.
His voice had dropped several octaves, and it sounded different… honeyed, charming, drawling, depraved. It was fucking sultry. When you looked up at him, you immediately noticed his body language. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what exactly had changed, but something about him was off.
All you knew was that, suddenly, a dangerous stranger was standing across the room from you. For the first time, you were truly grateful for those thick fucking chains.
His voice was smooth and calm when he said: “I need your help, sweetheart.”
You looked away from him, playing back on your phone instead. The way he rasped the word sweetheart would be burned into your brain for the rest of your life. It made your whole body feel hot.
“Come over here, beautiful,” he coaxed. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I know you want me too—you can’t hide from me anymore, princess.”
Princess. You didn’t answer. You just sat in silence and shrieked internally.
He said your name again—this time more urgently—then abruptly changed his tack : “Gods, this hurts so much now, it burns—I need you to make it stop hurting. Be a good girl and help me.”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek and shifted on the floor , pressing your thighs together.
When you didn’t respond, he tested a third approach, his voice pitching low and sensual: “Please, kæraata, don’t you want me? I’m so fucking hard for you right now. I’ll make you feel so, so good, make you cum again and again. Just-just let me touch you. Let me show you.”
You stayed quiet, trying to remember how to breathe. He was playing all the angles—appealing to your conscience and your libido. The second strategy was harder to ignore.
“Come here and feel how hard I am for you.”
His voice was pure sin, purring and growling for you. He was fucking luring you in with it, and he seemed to know it. He said your name one more time, and your resolve cracked a little.
You looked up at him, setting your phone down beside you.
Loki seemed encouraged by the eye contact, trying one last tactic. He cocked his head and rasped, “Are you wet for me?”
Your eyes widened, but you somehow managed to keep your lips pressed together.
He continued as if you’d answered aloud, as if he already knew you were: “Show me.”
You stared at him, unmoving.
“Come on, sweet girl,” he nodded down at your lap, his voice suddenly much lighter, as if he was thrilled to have identified this loophole. “You don’t even have to touch me. You can keep your clothes on. It’s completely safe—just-just touch yourself for me...and I’ll tell you all the things I’ve imagined doing to your body.”
Every part of you was screaming to listen to him. You wanted this. You wanted this just as much as he needed it.
“Please,” he whined, rolling his head to the side as if the thought alone made him burn.
He fixed his eyes on your face again. “I need—I need this, kærasta . And so do you. It’ll help. I know it will. Don’t you want to help me? And don’t you deserve to feel good?”
And he was right after all: what was the risk? It would be completely safe. He was powerless and shackled to the wall for fuck's sake.
You nodded dazedly, fairly sure this was somehow still a bad idea but struggling to find the will to care.
Loki was thrilled. “Fuck, yes, go on,” he encouraged, straining forward against the chains. “Feel your pussy for me.”
You surrendered to the rasping command of his voice immediately: you scooted back on the floor to lean against the wall, your legs crossed and knees open, and slid a hand under your waistband. Loki’s eyes followed your movements like his life depended on it. You could hear the pull of his labored breath through the room. When your fingers found your clit and you whimpered and looked up at him, he let out a stuttering groan—a filthy, orgasmic sound that echoed through your ears,adding to your arousal .
“That’s right, show me how wet you are.”
Before you had the chance to think too hard about what you were doing, you swiped your fingers through your soaked folds and extracted your hand carefully, holding it out in front of you, so Loki could see—even across the room—how your fingertips glistened wetly under the lights. He surged forward at the sight, the chains creaking threateningly, and hummed deep in his chest.
“Mmmmm,” he purred, slumping back against the wall. “I can’t wait to taste you. Make yourself cum for me now, and later, I’ll taste you and make you cum again. And again.”
You shoved your hand back into your pants and shuddered when you started rubbing slow circles over your clit, your eyes fixed on the hungry look into Loki ’s gaze. He wrapped his fingers around the thick chains and clenched his fists tight. Every single muscle in his body seemed taut, his spine perfectly rigid as he leaned forward again to watch.
He quirked his head to the side suggestively and spoke softly while you touched yourself, painting you a picture: “Later, when you let me down from here, I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to strip you bare and spread you open so I can kiss every inch of your body. I’m going to drag my tongue through your wet cunt and suck your clit until you come apart for me.”
The links squeaked as Loki shifted, slowly struggling further and further forward.
“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue so hard it hurts, and then I’m going to kiss it better.”
You whimpered, your fingers feeling like an inadequate replacement for his mouth, but his words were making up the difference. He was shoving you towards a climax without even touching you.
“Are you going to let me fuck you after I make you cum on my tongue?”
You nodded, too overwhelmed to scrape together a verbal reply, your fingers slipping wetly over the peak of your throbbing clit.
“Good... because I’ve thought about fucking you on every surface of this tower, beautiful. I’ve made myself cum thinking about bending you over the living room sofa and making you take my cock from behind. I’ve imagined fucking you up against the windowed wall from Stark’s archives room with your legs wrapped around my waist. And whenever we’re in any room alone ,together, I always think about pulling you onto my lap and letting you ride me right there in the spot.”
You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, all those images too much to take. You moved your fingers faster, and you could feel Loki’s restraint slipping the closer you got to orgasm.
“Yes, just like that—I need it,” he panted. “I need you. Look at me when you cum.”
Your eyes snapped open at that, and you saw that he was actively fighting his way forward now, pulling until all four of the chains were taut, his boots slipping over the floor, his voice getting louder and louder as he talked you through it.
“I want—I want to see it. Cum for me.”
You were so close—your head lolling back against the wall, your eyes falling closed as your body started to tense—when an angry metallic whine and the pattering of several small objects hitting the floor made you freeze and snap your eyes open. Your hand was still shoved down the front of your pants, your fingers paused against your clit, as you watched the durasteel panel that Loki’s right wrist restraint was fastened to began to peel away from the framework , several of the bolts already missing.
The piercing sound seemed to jolt Loki out of his drugged haze. As you watched, he seemed to turn back into himself again. He stepped back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you.
You withdrew your hand in a quick motion. “But I—”
“Do it,” he growled, his chest heaving. “Now. The secure cell . The one designed for The Hulk . Lock the doors behind you—the manual emergency lock, so I can’t override it.”
You stayed rooted to the spot, trying to work through a storm of conflicting emotions in the space of a second. You didn’t really want to run; you wanted to stay, you wanted to cum, you wanted to help him. You wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt himself breaking out of those restraints.
Mostly, you wanted him to fuck you.
Even as he ordered you to leave, he grasped and yanked the chain connected to the loose panel, twisting his torso and leaning forward to make full use of his body weight. The durasteel barely put up a fight. It fell away from the wall almost immediately, crashing to the floor.
In the tense silence that followed, Loki lifted his head to look at you. You could see the worry in his eyes.
In a ferocious voice you didn’t recognize, he roared, “RUN.”
Adrenaline seemed to take over then. You jumped to your feet and ran on the corridors as fast as you could, flinging yourself into the ultra secure cell and slamming your palm against the control panel to shut the heavy doors behind you. Your heart pounded while you waited for them until they shut with a satisfying click, then with your back against the cold glass of the doors, you slid to the floor. You knew the story of this room -designed by shield and stark technology to hold the hulk in case he lost control , but ended being used by Loki before when he was kept hostage - the cell was suspended high above the ground ; within the open framework of the tower.
It had a reinforced floor pannel with a trapdoor mechanism: if the prisoner became too dangerous or tries to evade , the floor could open and release the entire chamber, sending it plummeting hundreds of feet to the ground. The walls were made of a clear but incredibly strong polymer . Once in - you couldn’t get out. The only way to get out was to ask Jarvis to free you , mentioning the protocols and say aloud the password and code.
You were completely safe here .
You waited there, taking deep breaths to calm your pounding heart, and looked around the dimly lit room .You could hear Loki’s ongoing struggle down in the room: a series of grunts, bellowed curses, loud metallic scrapes and whines.
After several minutes, there was one final crash, and a victorious roar rang through the tower . Then, silence fell.
Some combination of relief and excitement overwhelmed you, sending a heady cocktail of adrenaline and desire skittering through your veins. You waited with baited breath, every inch of your skin tingling with exhilaration. He was coming for you.
A fresh surge of arousal flooded your core, your eyes falling closed as you rested your head against the doors.
After all the time you’d spent pining for him, after all those hours you’d watched his big hands work expertly on any tasks, after all days you’d admired those damned beautiful veins on his hands , after so many nights of sleeping feet away from him, your skin on fire just thinking about him… he was finally coming for you.
And now you knew the truth: all those times you’d thought about him, he’d been thinking about you too.
Some rude, insistent voice decided to remind you then that no matter how much you wanted to—fuck, you wanted to—you couldn’t let him in. He didn’t want you to
No, that wasn’t right. He thought he shouldn’t. That was completely different.
He definitely wanted you to let him in. He'd wanted to fuck you long before the bio-dart. And that’s what mattered, wasn’t it?
The quietest sound—the unmistakable scrape of a boot over metal—made you snap your head up, your eyes wide. He was on the other side of the doors. Every nerve in your body seemed to be on high alert, positively humming at his closeness. You were separated by only a few inches of glass.
Your pussy clenched at that one word.
“Tell Jarvis to open the doors,” he murmured, his voice all silk and solace.
You didn’t turned to face him , but you could hear subtle movement on the other side of the doors, the hollow clank as he rested his head against the glass.
You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep the word from bursting out of you. There was an answering smack and a sudden reverberation against your back, and you knew Loki had slammed his clenched fist against the outside of the doors. Your silence was killing him.
“The drugs have plateaued. I promise you: I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll make you feel good—so good—I swear. Open these doors, and I’ll show you.”
You were fully aware that it would be absolutely absurd to trust him in this moment. It made no sense whatsoever to take him at his word.
“I’ll turn these lights off , knock down the CCTV so I can taste you—so I can taste every part of you,without any audience ” he purred. “Don’t you want that?”
Suddenly, every light in the room was extinguished, and the viewport blackened, the glass becoming completely opaque, until darkness consumed the entire room, leaving only the security button throbbing with a menacing red light. Then, the clang of a heavy metal object echoed through the oppressive silence. He had taken out the surveillance camera so Tony wouldn’t see certain things. Loki was a man of his word after all.
You were left in the pitch black, thinking about Loki .The thought of his mouth threatened to sink you: the heat of it on your neck, on your lips, on your cunt… all over you. It threatened to erase every trace of logic or restraint that had ever resided in your brain. It dragged over every part of you, promising care and pleasure and him. It was overwhelming enough to spur you to your feet. Before you knew it, you were standing, facing him .
As if he somehow knew, as if he could read your mind, Loki spoke then.
“I’m ready when you are,tell me the codes ” came the rasping whisper from the other side of the doors.
“Tell Jarvis to release the prisoner. Mention Protocol Athena, the password Tonystarkthebest4ever, then enter the code 914583 on the device next to the door lock.”
You’ve told him what needs to be done, and you’re not sure if you did what was required—but you certainly did what you wanted. With him beside you. To touch him. To feel him, and to be felt.
He smirked contented and purred a “Good girl” as he did the steps you mentioned .
Your heartbeat seemed to crescendo when you heard the hissing sound of the heavy doors opening and instinctively scampered backward as they creaked open. You expected Loki to rush inside, to flip the lights back on, to be on you right away.
He didn’t turn on all the lights in the room, just a single monitor that cast a dim glow, allowing you to barely see each other. You watched him enter slowly through the door, his gaze fixed on yours , and you instinctively took a step back.Your heartbeat ratcheted up impossibly higher, a spastic staccato against your ribcage. Your voice seemed to catch in your throat, unable to express any of the questions that were rattling at your consciousness.
He eyed you head to toes , then smirked as he leaned against the doors , watching you closely.
After all that build up, all that waiting, he was toying with you.
The audacity of this man..
Well, fuck, if he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to oblige.
Some innate, long-dormant prey instinct seemed to awaken in you then, and you backed further into the glassed cell . You paused, braced against the wall behind . When every single hair on the back of your neck stood at attention, and you saw he was closing in,almost reached you , you took a risk.
You pushed him and sprinted past him, and Loki roared.
You dodged his grasping hands, feeling the faintest brush of his fingers on your arm as you slipped around him and threw yourself out of the cell , slapping the door control as you went. The doors clanged shut behind you, cutting off Loki ’s frustrated grunt, and you barrelled forward, hoping your memory of the layout of the Stark Tower was good enough to serve you in complete darkness as Loki used his magic and put the whole tower into complete darkness ,and then you knew that he removed the device from his neck . Your hands found the handle of a door blindly and you managed to get it open , desperately trying to type in the code in complete darkness and you hissed a “yes” contented that you managed to get into Tony’s offjce ,knowing the closed doors would buy you mere seconds.
Just as you dropped down onto the floor of the office, you heard the doors from the cell slide open again. You scurried to the far end of the room and slipped behind Tony s huge desk. You weren’t even really sure why you were still evading him. Hiding was pointless when he had the advantage of his magic, but if he insisted on playing, you weren’t going to be the one to surrender first.
A grunt and a flash of green announced his arrival—then, nothing. Complete darkness
For several long moments, he let your blood pressure tick ever upward.
But eventually, the faint creak of the floorboards gave him away . He was close—somewhere off to your right. You edged to the left, certain that you had a vague idea of where he was. You backed up slowly, relieved when you bumped against the wall.
You waited there, straining to hear the tiniest movement.
Nothing. Silence—heavy, oppressive silence blanketed the office , making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t make out a single sound in the darkness, and the sheer anticipation was starting to make you sweat. Loki must be frozen too, somewhere out there in the gloom, waiting for you to make a move.
Your stubbornness was quickly giving way to horniness. Your determination to outlast him deteriorated, and you opened your mouth to call out to him.
Instead, you let out a scream of terror when the wall behind you shifted, but the shriek was immediately muffled when a large hand clamped firmly over your mouth. Loki wrapped his other arm around your middle, pulling you completely back against him. You whimpered against the tight clutch of his hand , eyes widening and your heart threatening to burst from your chest.
The way he used magic was insane and he almost gave you a heart attack but you must admit he was a talented magic user .
You closed your eyes when his lips touched your ear when he whispered, “It’s just me, sweetheart.”
You let out a quiet, needy whine in response, the icy fear in your veins melting into something warmer, something thicker. You tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder and ground your hips against him in silent invitation. He purred , and rolled his hips once against your ass in response. The temporary hot, tight press of his hard cock against you made you moan into his hand.
“Are we done playing, love? You want me to fuck you now?”
He lifted his hand away from your mouth just long enough for you to gasp, “Yes, please.”
His fingers closed over your lips once more, and he kept you there, fitted tightly against his chest.
You gonna take my cock like a good girl?”
As he spoke, he rolled his hips against you again, and you nodded frantically against his hand.
Approval rumbled through his chest—you felt the satisfied reverberation against your back as much as you heard it. The arm that was curled around your middle like an unyielding iron bar loosened then, and that hand wandered down your body, the touch of his hand dragging over your shirt—slow, weighty, distracting. You whined in disappointment, writhing weakly against him, when it didn’t dip under your waistband, instead continuing its path over your pants until it settled at the apex of your thighs. You parted your legs reflexively, and he shoved his fingers between them.
He stopped there, his palm cupped over your clothed cunt, his fingers poised so fucking close to where you were throbbing for him, unmoving.
“Then beg for it” he purred in your ear
You involuntarily clenched your thighs together around his hand, unintentionally increasing the pressure on your aching clit, and your jaw dropped open just as the hand over your mouth disappeared again. The words spilled from your lips before you even knew what you were saying.
“Please, Lo , I want it—I need your co—”
You were cut off by your own surprised squeak when you heard his growl . You held your breath—stunned into complete silence—as you prayed mentally that you hadn’t done a mistake .
The complete darkness meant there was no chance of seeing his face, but just knowing he was that close to you… his lips, his tongue… after all the things he’d promised? After he’d admitted all the things he’d thought about doing to you? It was a lot to take in. And you couldn’t shake off the thrill of adrenaline that surged through your body.
You shuddered when his exact words came back to you.
I’m going to make you cum on my tongue so hard it hurts, and then I’m going to kiss it better.
For a moment, all you could feel was the rise and fall of his sturdy chest behind you and his humid exhale against your cheek. His mouth was inches away from yours. Your tongue darted out flit across your lower lip.
If you turned your head and angled it just so, you could probably—
With a low growl, Loki interrupted your train of thought. He dipped his head and dragged his tongue up the side of your neck—one slow, languid pull of velvet that melted away any and all of your coherent thoughts. Your head lolled to the other side, giving him all the space he needed to taste you. He took the invitation gladly, greedily laving his tongue over the expanse and sucking hard kisses into your skin.
Somewhere in the back of your hazy brain, you knew you were supposed to be doing something.
What was it he’d asked you to do?
Loki worked his way up the column of your neck at a leisurely pace, blazing a searing trail across your sensitive skin, and you sagged in his arms, muscles weakening as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. All the while, you were painfully aware of the insistent pressure of his unmoving hand on your cunt, the press of his hard cock against your ass through so many layers of fabric.
When he reached it, he sucked your earlobe between his teeth, the teasing scrape somewhere between delicious and ticklish.
His lips ghosted over curve of your ear, and he whispered, “Beg for my cock, and I’ll bend you over and fuck you right here.”
Desire flashed up your spine. His voice was sexier in this moment than it normally was . It was warmer, fuller, rawer—ten subtle shades of red, as opposed to the one monotone hue. It was Loki with no restains , unadulterated in all his low, rasping glory.
It set something off inside you, obliterated what little composure remained.
You had no excuse—there was no incapacitating drug coursing through your veins, no bio-dart to explain your desperation—and yet, you felt that same exact urgency that Loki had described earlier when he was still in chains.
You felt like if he didn’t fuck you right now, you might die.
“Please, please fuck me. I want you to. Please, I need it,” you pleaded. Something commanding seeped into your tone then—that urgent feeling made material—and when you continued, your voice was unyielding: “Now, I need it now. ”
He snarled, rendered wordless by his own need reflected in your voice, and shoved your pants and underwear down your thighs in one rough movement. He ripped them down your legs until you lifted one foot, then the other, tossing them away into the darkness. Your shirt followed suit. When you were completely bare, he flipped you both around without warning.
“Hands out,” he said, his voice all authority.
You obeyed immediately, your hands flying out to brace against the cold wall as one of his large hands slid up your back, following the line of your spine, to rest between your shoulder blades and press you forward. You folded, and he nudged your feet apart and gripped your hips, pulling your ass up and back—manipulating your body into the exact position that he wanted it: open and ready.
You heard him unbuckle his belt behind you, the metallic clink sending a hot shiver down your spine. Your jaw fell open, a quiet, pained moan slipping from your lips, when the blunt head of his cock was rubbed up and down—it slipped so easily up and down—against your soaking wet cunt. You pressed your hips back, and finally, he fitted the head against your entrance and eased himself forward—stretching you slowly, agonizingly slowly. He was thick and long, so he worked you open with shallow thrusts, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip to hold you in place as you parted slickly around his girth. You both moaned when his hips met the plush of your ass.
“Fuck me, Lo. Please, fuck me hard.”
Letting out a low growl, he pulled his hips back and obeyed.
The only sounds that filled the room were the obscene slap of skin against skin and your panting breaths. In the complete darkness, it was easy to get lost in the rhythm, in the slick push and pull, in the deliciously tight fit. The hand gripping your hip wandered inward, seeking out your clit.
Loki curled himself forward then, fitting himself along the curve of your back, and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck. He paused to say, “Let me feel you soak my cock.”
You moaned in reply, reaching back to tangle one hand in his messy hair . Somewhere in the back of your hazy brain you registered this new piece of information, and it made your heart squeeze: his hair was so soft , and you don’t think you can ever get enough of feeling it between your fingers .
With his fingers moving deftly over your clit, his cock filling you perfectly, it took less than a minute to reach your peak. His thrusts faltered when you spasmed and tightened around him—letting out a keening moan as the pleasure washed through you—and you knew he was close too.
“Inside—” you panted. “Cum inside—”
He snarled and pressed you closer to the wall , forcing you both upright. The wall was cold against your boobs while his skin warm against your back , his forearm braced against that wall inches from your face. He kicked his pace up higher—a punishing slap slap slap—as he impaled you again and again on the rigid length of his cock.
When he came, his teeth threatened to break the skin on your shoulder, and you whined at the sensation, at pleasure tinged with pain. He let out what would have been a shout had his jaw not been clenched tight and canted his hips in an achingly slow motion—once, twice, three times—as he worked out his orgasm, releasing inside you.
Even after he’d finished, after he’d slumped his weight against you, pressing you into the unforgiving hardness of the wall, he was still hard—throbbing hot and insistent inside you as you both attempted to catch your breath.
Eventually, he eased out of you, and you turned in his embrace. Immediately, his hands found your cheeks, and he crashed his lips against yours, his bold tongue finding its way into your mouth right away. The kiss was messy and hot, a tangle of tongues as you swallowed each other’s moans.
Your eager hands wandered down his body and settled on his hips, and you pulled away from him to sink to your knees. He let out a groan when he realized what you were doing and leaned heavily against the wall, throwing his head back , as you wrapped your lips around his cock. He shuddered at the heat of your mouth engulfing him, one large hand coming down to cradle the back of your head as you swallowed him down.
His hips bucked forward, and he grunted, “Fuck—yes—”
And time passed like that, in a darkened blur—everything was a hazy cloudburst of arched spines and bruising grips, a riot of golden sensation, warm and syrupy and tactile. You worked your way through Loki’s layers until he too was stripped down, discarding clothes throughout the room.
Loki was fanatical in his pursuit of your pleasure, a devoted acolyte at the altar of your body. You came three times for every one of his orgasms. It was like a fractured dream: hot, sweaty limbs tangled together; broken moans and heaving sighs; pleasure sharpened to a euphoric peak by small, deliberate doses of pain.
His hand closed loosely around your throat while you rode him right there on the desk . His feet slipped across the smooth wood as he braced himself to cant his hips up and up, stunted thrusts in time with the movements of your hips. You could tell your nails were going to leave scarlet half-moons on the undersides of his biceps when you tightened around his thick cock. The rhythmic slap of sweaty skin against sweaty skin rang throughout the echoing room. Words fled you both, and you were left with purrs and cries, with shaky keening and thundering pants.
The burning urgency—the fire and the fog—of the drug slowly wore off of him: you could tell by the way his movements became less desperate and more measured, by the way words eventually returned to him. He was completely himself again: your Loki. Time slowed, and the pleasure became leisurely, luxurious.
But even without the drug sharpening his need, the mutual hunger remained.
Some time—and innumerable orgasms later—you had finally made your way into his room, and you were flat on your back at the top of his bed, legs spread, his head buried between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair . He was making good on his promise to taste every part of you, and even in the dimly light , you could see and even hear how much he was enjoying it. He was moaning as he worked his tongue over your puffy, slick lips, circling the aching peak of your clit. You could feel the way he was humping the mattress, his hips stuttering, shaking the bedframe.
“Gods you taste so good,” he slurred and you met his gaze bitting your lower lip .
You whined when he slid two thick fingers inside the hot clutch of your cunt, hooking them up in time with the flicks of his tongue. When you came, blood rushed loudly in your ears, cutting off the sound of your own cry of pleasure. You were vaguely aware of the fact that Loki was also cumming: his hips thrusting frantically, jolting the mattress , and he groaned against your pussy in an unmistakable way, spilling against the surface, entirely untouched. Your own orgasm rolled through you, tensing and arching, seemingly endless. When it finally ebbed, your grip relaxed, fingers slipping from his hair as every muscle in your body went limp.
He was panting when he pulled back, and you slumped against the bed, rolling onto your back, limp and sated and exhausted. He collapsed somewhere below you, his head resting on your thigh, and the two of you lay like that—completely spent and incapacitated.
You felt lazy and sedate, like a cat who’d slept too long in the sun.
Eventually, you felt Loki stir and back out of the bed , his weight shifting the mattress, but you were too close to the verge of sleep to reach out for him or ask him where he was going. When he returned a few minutes later, he had a warm, damp cloth in his hand. He shuffled up beside you and ran it over the sensitive parts of you, over the sweat and the slick, gently cleaning you up, and to your sleepy delight, he followed the trail with soft kisses, pressing his lips to every part of you—retracing each step of the night, retreading the pleasure like a familiar path.
You hummed at the sensation, at the comfort. At what they promised.
After placing a final kiss on your temple, he disappeared again.
But he returned minutes later, this time with a full water bottle, coaxing you to sit up and drink before he let you settle back down on his bed . When he was satisfied that you were comfortable and cared for, he crawled up next to you and pulled you into his side, dragging a blanket over both your bodies and draping a heavy arm across your middle.
“Thank you,” you murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. You felt him smile.
“Sleep,kærasta ,” he whispered, his calloused fingers stroking your cheek.
“Mmm,” you replied, your eyelids drooping closed, a drowsy smile on your lips. “Night, Loki.”
“Lo…? What …. What means …. Kær….?” You said , trailing off almost completely but still curious to find out the meaning
He smiled , as he softly answered
“Soulmate.”he said quietly ,and you smiled contented before you fell into a deep , satisfied sleep.
