#sub loki

[starboy-writing]

Loki getting creampied and bred by dom male reader that is my requests

Author's Note: It's always a good day to breed the god of mischief 😌

Warnings: male reader, dom top reader, established engagement, anal, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffs, multiple orgasms and crazy stamina for both of you, mild hints of mpreg (nothing explicit)

Green star divider created by @/pixopix

Trickery is his specialty — but that doesn't mean that you aren't capable of a little trickery of your own.

To even get someone like him into this position is a mighty feat in and of itself. Not because it's impossible, simply because it takes careful planning from a mind that's equally as devious and cunning as his own.

An offhand compliment about his appearance today. Fingers gracefully teasing down his arms, tickling the hairs in such a way that makes goosebumps materialize on his skin. A little peck on the cheek, then another, and another, confessing that you adore your lover's gentle expression when you kiss him. Loki's immediate suspicion, countered by your hands in his, gliding along each digit so tenderly, yet clinging to them as if you can't let go. A flick of the wrist and a cheeky bite to his lip, and the next thing your lover senses is a pair of metal restraints clamped around his wrists.

But, with your arms so lovingly wrapped around his torso, and that deceptive smile tugging your lips upwards, he finds himself willing to go along with your game for the time being.

Another bruising thrust has the man's vision blurring for a second; static invading the edges of his sight as the lengthy cock digging around in his guts forces yet another embarrassing noise out of him.

Every drag, every movement causes the wettest squelching you'll ever hear, partially from the lube, partially from two thick loads you'd already squeezed inside of his body. As Loki's forehead presses down on the table, his own twitchy cock prepares for a release he'd been denied twice before, drooling enough that it could already be mistaken for his release.

You promised him that he could cum, but only once you'd filled him three times. (And every multiple of three… but he doesn't need to know how much you intend to breed him upfront~) So, with your hips snapping forward in a broken rhythm, and soft grunts next to his ear, Loki greedily accepts your offer, awaiting the familiar surge of your seed before he paints the ground with his own, trembling all the way through.

“Gnngh… gods, you feel good…” you groan into the crook of Loki's neck.

He knows the words aren't empty praise — most of your weight is pressing him down, and you're drilling into him like a desperate mutt, with a grip so secure that he swears you're trying to embed your fingerprints into his sides. Whenever you aren't letting him know how deliciously wet he is around your cock, your praise comes through in whines against his shoulder, teeth grazing his pale flesh in tandem with your thrusts. Surely, it isn't all bravado.

The stickiness between Loki's legs gets worse as your wild pounding pushes more and more cum out of him, dripping down his legs and adding to the wet cacophony of noises. If you look down, you'd be able to see the myriad lines connecting yourselves, a sinful mixture of your own fluids and your lover's precum becoming one lewd mess. Were his hands not bound behind his back, he would be using them to add even more into the wet mix, stroking himself in time with your rough hip work.

Your voice cracks as you feel yourself nearing yet another orgasm, sweaty hair sticks to the edges of your face, and you hold Loki's hips tighter while you warn: “Haah– close a-again… going to… mmfh-!! B-breed you, fuuuck!!”

That warmth floods his entire body for the third time this evening. A flush of heat, creeping across his skin and stirring deep in the pit of his stomach.

‘Breed’. What a choice word for you to use — and a filthy one at that. Implying a sense of ownership, or type of procreation. …He'd be lying if he said that the implications of that didn't make his heart skip a beat. And the reaction between his legs isn't lost to you either…

Loki's breath hitches upon feeling your body come to a halt, burying your dick up to the hilt. Between three fat loads and your tip hammering them further inside, he's starting to feel bloated… if his belly bulges, wouldn't it look like he's…?

It's not particularly easy to piece his thoughts together with the way you're rutting into him, grinding so deep that his feet lift off the ground, but Loki manages to ask his question while catching his breath.

“That word you used, darling…” he swallows thickly, turning his head so you can hear him a bit clearer. “what was that about?”

Still connected by the hips, your dick already becoming soft after so much overuse, you tuck a lock of silky hair behind your beloved's ear. “You'll have to be more specific, love. I'm drawing a blank here.” an exhausted chuckle follows your sentence.

“I heard you use the term ‘breed’…?” he clarifies. An air of uncertainty in his words that you're not used to.

Hearing him actually say that out loud, well, you'd be crazy not to be a little hot and bothered. An embarrassing flush spreads beneath your skin at the reflexive twitch in your cock, and the realization that Loki probably felt it. “Oh, w-well… yes, that is the word I used…” you trail off. Your mind becomes lost amongst the various thoughts of your future, the expectations placed upon both your shoulders and your fiance's, and your own selfish desires.

A slight jingle followed by warm fingers curling around your wrist pulls you right out of your daze. That familiar touch that always grounds you when you're floating off in space.

“Out with it then, something has been bothering that pretty head of yours for days now.” Loki flips himself on the table. His gaze is expectant and slightly annoyed — as it usually is whenever you keep things from him, good or bad.

His palms cup your cheeks, and it's as if those worries that plagued you melt right off into the ether (even if the handcuffs hanging off one wrist look a bit silly).

One look into your darling's eyes has a confession rolling off of your tongue easily. “It's just… we're going to be married soon, and with marriage comes certain expectations from our parents…”

“You're not talking about political status, are you?”

You shake your head, face burning up as the truth finally slips. “No, I'm talking about them wanting grandkids, sweetheart.”

Left without words, Loki blinks in astonishment. Grandkids. Kids. YOUR KIDS?! Together?!

Now this is something that genuinely stops the trickster in his path. You mean to tell him that you've been thinking about– no, fussing over the prospect of–

“Ah, I see,” he clears his throat, squirming as the fluid leaking out of his hole becomes undeniably more arousing than before. “and this is the only thing bothering you?”

You're quick to nod, alleviating your betrothed's worries on sight. “Besides a few pre-marriage nervous jitters, yeah. I'm just worried that I won't be able to deliver, haha…” the laugh falls clumsily from your lips, concealing a hint of insecurity.

But Loki won't have any of that. The handcuffs are back around both wrists immediately — you'd never know they were never off to begin with. His hands lift over your head and rest on the back of your neck, pulling you down into a gentle yet passionate kiss.

“Mm I don't know, if you ask me, I'd say you'll be quite thorough with this matter~” he purrs against your lips, spreading his legs underneath you. You're greeted to the sight of his already used hole presented just for you, and you easily take the bait.

A few strokes and the sight of your beloved so driven after your little chat is enough to get you hard again, easily sliding right back inside those warm walls.

You're yanked closer, buried in the crook of Loki's neck once more, trapped by his arms around your neck and his legs around your waist, rutting into him. He's still pleasantly tight, squeezing you in just the right ways that have your vision faltering.

On instinct, you keep your arms wrapped around your soon-to-be husband's body, dwarfing him in your shadow as your hips continue to pound him hard enough to leave stinging red marks. His body sucks you in without a second thought, eating up every inch. You tremble, and whisper 'I love you' into your darling's ear before cumming hard, turning the slick plaps from your bodies even sloppier as your seed overflows.

Never in his life has Loki felt so stuffed. You've filled him multiple times, each load is just as thick as the last, and you kept fucking it deeper inside, leaving little opportunity for it to leak out. Even now, pulling everything except the tip out and watching your own sticky fluids gush out and dribble down Loki's inner thighs, you swiftly angle his hips so that the rest can't escape from his fertile hole.

And after your conversation, it seems a fire was lit within yourselves, dispelling whatever exhaustion would have followed. Surely Loki's parents wouldn't be too upset with their son getting knocked up before the wedding… it's only a few more rounds…

[blahblahblah-yapyap]

Neglected

» sub!bottom!characters x dom!top!amab!reader

» Shuumatsu no Valkyrie

» ignoring them and neglecting them by any kind of contact, them growing needy and horny

જ⁀➴ Susano'o no Mikoto

He has no idea what he has done to deserve such cruel punishment but he is more than willing to beg for your forgiveness and for your touch, after all in this world there are two things that Susano'o is passionate about, two things that matter even more than his own life, swordsmanhip and you, and if he is neglected of any of those he feels his whole world breaking down, of course Susano'o doesn't want to be too demanding and is willing to give you space when you need it, but if it pass one whole day without even a kiss he is losing it! He can't live without your touch, he needs your love just as much as he needs the air to live! When he doesn't get an answer from you of what he have done wrong he is imediatly in his knees, because suddently losing your touch make him feel like it has happened a whole eternity without it, he feel like he is losing you and he doesn't want that, he will do anything, even after begging so much he decides to give you some space, wich only means he can't stop thinking about it and end up torturing himself, accidentally evoking the memories of your touch, when you kiss him, when you mark him, when you thrust on him until his skin turns red and his body feels like breaking, he feels like it has been an eternity and the memories does nothing but turn him on, but, of course, he refuses to pleasure himself because that may just make you more angry at him and make you decide to make him wait even more, and he doesn't know how much longer he will be able to handle it, so instead he will try his best and wait like the good boy he is

જ⁀➴ Apollo

He is a god that depends on the attention and praises he recives from others, as beautiful as he knows he is he needs your eyes on him, it thrills him and make him feel excited, and because of that the moment you decide to ignore him and deprave him of your touch he decided to take the matters in his hands. Apollo it is not a rational man, it takes him no time to realice that you are ignoring him and it takes him less time to decide to do something, he decided that he would push you to the point of wanting to touch him, he shows off his most revealing clothes right in front of his eyes, searching for any excuse to linger close and bend over in a provocative way, all so he can have all your attention on his body, all so you feel the need to touch him again, to mark him, this has become a game for him so he will act as provocative as he can, even sitting inecesarely close, leaning over while lingering close so his bare skin will become tempting, letting you have the best look at him and at his body, making sure you can get the hint of how much he wants you to knock him over all to push you to the point to actually do it, seriously he feels like he is starting to forget how it is feels to have you filling him up. If being seductive doesn't works he will choose to opt for the jealousy, may not be the best plan but he is growing desperate, trying to turn you on it is making him feel turned on, after all he has been trying to provoke you and that have only left him feeling needy and frustrated, that is why he will flirt and pay attention to others instead of you, ironically you never left his mind but is willing to ignore you too until you grow jealous or at least needy enough to dragg him away to finally make him yours again

જ⁀➴ Loki

Ignorning him can't be nothing else than pure sadism, after all, despite the jokes and playfulness Loki is awfully obvious with how enamoured he is with you, how much not only he needs you but will be willing to do for you so ignoring it just hits him and hard. Of course Loki will try to play it off with jokes, in an attempt to get you in the mood to don't ignore him anymore but the more you refuse to pay attention to him, to don't touch him in any way, it makes him grow more and more anxious and frustranted, he has no idea what he have done to make you this mad at him but he will do anything and everything just for you to stop neglecting him, Loki grows so desperate that he ends up taking his frustration on himself, he ends up playing with himself out of frustration, he forces himself to the edge and treat himself roughtly, completely abusing his body and thinking it is you instead of whatever toy he decided to use, that you have finally decided to take it against him instead of ignoring him and torturing him with your neglectance, but when his orgasm finally left him panting and he gets back to reality he grows frustrated all over again because not only it wasn't you but also you are still ignoring him, and, honestly, he doesn't know how much he will be able to handle it, he doesn't know how much his body will be able to accept the lack of your touch, he is growing more desperate and will end up taking any chance to get your attention back, he will find a way to take any chance to try to get in your good side, to barely hide his begging under those jokes before he complete cracks and get on his knees for you

જ⁀➴ Poseidon

Daring to ignore him it quickly becomes a challenge, he will let is slip that you have ignore him once but not more! Do you know who he is? There is no way you would ever dare to ignore and neglect him, there is simply no way, or at least that is what he repeats himself over and over again because even when he stood in front of you in all his glory, showing off his skin once you didn't "caught the hints" of what he wanted and had to be more direct he was faced with the fact that you would still not do anything, but he won't play your game and after rolling his eyes he left you. The problems is that he is a bit too addicted to your touch, of the praises you shower him in and the way you make him feel, you made your way to his side and engraved yourself in him, you marked him and made him yours and he is growing more and more frustrared because you don't give him what he wants, and even if he tries to ignore it he simply can't ignore the way his body is practically screaming for your touch, how much he wants to force that attitude of yours to crack by riding you, make you pleasure him until he decides to stop. The more time it passes the more angry and frustrated Poseidon feels, and the more needy and horny he feels, but refuses to take care of himself because that is your duty, so he will try to linger around you and provoke you, to make you crack and give up, the problem is that he has no idea how much time he has before is his pride what cracks and he starts to beg

[bleeding-heart-vigilante]

I'm supposed to be doing schoolwork, but I'm having some sub!Loki thots instead...

Aphrodasiac... heat... sex pollen... Whatever the hell that caused it, he's painfully horny now.

But, you have no idea, so you hit the books to see what it is that's causing him so much pain.

Papers scattered across the table... Books open... You even have your laptop out on the off chance that Google would be kind to you and actually help! (Desperate times called for desperate measures)

And each second you're studying on his behalf instead of touching him is agony.

So, naturally, being the needy little thing he is, he kneels right beside your chair, resting his head against your thigh.

But, you're still not touching him, and he's growing impatient (and desperate!), and his pants are getting way too tight...

He starts slowly palming himself, hoping that would at least satisfy him for the moment. It doesn't.

His soft whimpers grow into distracting moans intertwined with pleas for you to help:

"Surely, you can take a moment away from your research..." "Darling, this is torture..." "Please... Please... Oh, gods, please touch me..."

As his face gently nuzzles your thigh, you apoligetically refuse him, determined to figure out what it was that was affecting him.

Despite that, you humor him with a gentle scratch on the crown of his head, eliciting another moan from him as your touch sends another intense wave of arousal through him.

All he wanted was for you to stop toying with him already and put that hand on his aching cock!

His face moves from your thigh as his hands coax yours from his head to face level, so he could kiss it as his hips began to frantically buck into his hand.

He was a mess at your feet, and it was totally distracting.

"Please... Please... Please, darling, please... Please..."

And that is what ultimately breaks your resolve.

You slide your chair back as an invitation, and he all but leaps into your lap, straddling your hips.

Cue the two of you ending up a mess of kissing, touching, and grinding as your research is left neglected on the table.

[boredandelusive]

Day 2: Coming Untouched (Loki Laufeyson/Reader)

This past week was aggravating, torturous even. You've been giving Loki the silent treatment after hiding your dog. It was meant to be a harmless prank, but the worry you felt when you weren't greeted by the clingy pitbull. Even the slew of apologies didn't cover the worry you felt.

He didn't notice at first, the way you didn't kiss him when you woke up. A groan of annoyance when he pulled you close, where you usually chuckled. Where you would sit next to him when watching movies, now you sat on the loveseat with Grouch, cuddling you.

Loki definitely noticed when you wrapped a blanket around yourself in bed.

Unlike regular nights, where you would be the little spoon, he was on the other side of the bed, cold. "Darling," his sultry voice filled the silence. "Whatever it is I've done, I apologize."

"You've apologized a week ago, Loki," you chided, feeling Grouch climb into bed at the foot.

"And you have yet to forgive me," he continues, being enough to make you turn the other way to face him.

"Because it's Grouch. You managed to hide him, and you made me worry, Loki. You know how I get," the words stopped in your throat, vividly remembering the fear you felt when Grouch didn't come. "And you know he's older now."

"My love, it was never intentional." The uncertainty in reaching for you was notable, hands inching closer in hopes you would reach out first.

"Yeah, but you still did it," you reminded, looking away for a moment. "Now to think of a way you could pay me back."

"Revenge?" His head jolted in your direction, knowing your version of revenge would be anything but pleasant. "I'm sure there's something else you think of."

"Oh?" A glimmer in your eye spoke volumes. Of course, you had powers, something simple but deadly under the right conditions. "But you want my forgiveness, right?"

"It's not that I don't. I know how vindictive you can get," Loki corrected, unease in his eyes. "You can give nightmares with a breath."

"I can make someone dream with a breath. You think I only give nightmares?" You turned to him, a smirk forming on your lips.

"I've only seen you give people nightmares."

"I can give someone dreams. What comes of those dreams is based on my mood. Do I look pissed right now?" You shot back, head tilting as you sat up.

"Not particularly," Loki answered, but he made no move to pull away. You sat up, making sure the door was open, your dog sitting up with you. 

"Grouch, go home," you gave the soft command, receiving a whine of reluctance before Grouch got off the bed and went to his bed in the living room. 

"I trust you," more of a mantra to himself, but Loki meant it. With a breath, the door closed and locked before you turned your attention to him.

You were a Dreamer, something in your culture described as a creature who could manipulate the minds of others with mist. For you, the red mist stemmed from your breath, and as long as the receiving person breathed in the mist, their minds were under your control.

Hovering beside Loki, you breathed, red mist flowing from your lips and surrounding his head. His chest swelled, inhaling the scent as your hand caressed the side of his face. "Let's see if I can make you ruin yourself without my touch."

Images of you started to flash through his mind, his body reacting slowly. You took it slow, starting with your first night together. Loki was never the type to fuck rough, using you like an object, not unless you asked. 

That first night was a night to remember.

His body started to react, cock rising to attention as his mind swirled. "Wait, Loki," your voice cuts into the memory, your face flushed with arousal.

"What is it, darling?"  He enjoyed the look on your face, the desperation in your eyes. "Use your words," he teased, a slender finger trailing your jaw and making you look up at him.

While his mind reeled in your dreamer mist, you changed some of the memories, made them intense, made them longer. Just as his hand snaked around his cock, you stopped him, lacing your fingers with his. "Untouched."

Just your touch made sparks fly under his skin, whimpers escaping his mouth as you intensified the dreams that coursed. You wanted to test it further, blowing another wave of mist into his face.

Memory manipulation with ghost touch. Another level of reminiscing that connected the sense of touch with memory. 

False touches of hands ran over his body, sensual caressing which happened in the past connected with the present. Loki hadn't said anything, the poor soul. The only sign of him still grounded in the present was his tightening grip on your hand. 

You shift the memory some, playing further in the night as the mist relayed your touch. Your hips gyrate against his, chasing a pleasure you felt only when you were alone. The sounds of your pleasure, your hands using his chest to balance yourself. 

"There you go, take it for yourself," his words encouraged, while his hands would grip your hips, stabilizing you. "So eager for me."

A conniving smile crept onto your face as you watched his body react to a phantom touch. Hips grinding into nothing, grip on your hand tightening as if keeping you there, pleasure creeping his senses as he chased something fueled by the recent past.

"How cute, Loki," you whispered, eyes trailing to his cock as you watched precum bead from the tip. Part of you wanted to touch him, to see how fast it would take for him to come from a simple ministration.

You kept your composure, watching the memory pool a fresh sense of arousal. How responsive you were to his touch made the night memorable, but seeing how he teetered on the precipice made you think of something sweetly sadistic.

His hips chased the brink as your mouth moved to his neck, nipping at his pulse point. Slow kissed made his body tense up, his hand nearly crushing yours as he spilled on himself. 

His release spurted, a drawn out groan as you breathed the mist in, retracting the effect on his mind. His cock pulsed, still holding his hand as his eyes finally opened. "There you are. It's okay, take your time," your words were far from vicious, watching as his body trembled from his high.

"That was..." his voice quiet, still reeling from such an experience. 

"Vivid. I hope you didn't think that was all, did you?" Your eyes glinted with desire, knowing the night was just getting started.

[bottomlessp1t]

loki being a whimpering mess everytime you thrust inside him and hit that special spot that makes him see stars. Him reaching down to spread his puss apart so you could get better access a drool coming from his little mouth as he starts moaning ‘ah ah ah’ his voice barely audible as he’s lost in pleasure

[ellamuffin97]

💚Unfettered 💚

Pairing: Lokixfem!reader

Rating: E, 18+

Wordcount: ~8K

Warnings: sex pollen,use of restains ,Loki gets SCARY , lots of dirty talk,sedation, injection,reference to violence ,oral receive (m) while Loki is chained up but not drugged anymore

Summary: when Loki is drugged on a mission he asks you to restrain him because he knows damn well that he is not going to be able to keep his hand off you .

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.”

“What—?”

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.

“Why—?”

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 secure tower , where he’ve been hold when he first came in the tower .

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?”

“Just do it.”

“I’m 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.

“Please,” 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.

It was quite a sight.

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.”

“Apparently not.”

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.

“So…it’s just the drug?”

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.

You stepped toward him.

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.

“You won’t hurt me.”

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.

When you didn’t respond, he tested a third approach, his voice pitching low and sensual : “Please, darling , 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.”

Fuck.

His voice was pure sin, purring and growling for you. He was fucking luring you in with 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.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Come over here.”

Against all odds, you stayed seated.

“Come make me feel good, and I’ll make you feel good.”

There was no way you could just sit and listen to this forever, so you made a decision. You shot to your feet.

“Yes, sweet girl, that’s right. I knew you’d do the right thing—always so good to me. Let me down from here, and I’ll take my time with you, show you all the things I’ve imagined doing to your body.”

Sweet fucking hell.

“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue so hard it hurts, and then I’m going to kiss it better.”

He was going to kill you.

You turned abruptly and walked to the door, placing your hand on the security panel .

“NO! Fuck—don’t do this,” he raged behind you. You could hear the squeak of the links shifting against each other as he heaved himself forward.

Steeling yourself, you tipe the code to unlock the door . The only way for you to survive this was to lock yourself in your room , far away from the temptation of his damn voice.

Loki roared and thrashed behind you.

You were halfway out when you heard it—an angry metallic whine and the pattering of several small objects hitting the floor. You whipped your head around and watched as the durasteel panel that his 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. When you turn back in and faced him, you could tell that he was himself again. He stepped back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you.

When he spoke, his voice had returned to its normal register and cadence, all business. “Fuck—fuck, you have to drug me. You have to.”

Your jaw dropped: “Drug you?? More?”

Words poured out of his mouth, desperate and rushed: “In the med kit,” he pointed, “there’s a shot—PLEASE, sedate me now. It’ll knock me out for a couple hours while the worst of this works through my system. Otherwise, these chains won’t hold. Please, just fucking do it—there’s nowhere that you can hide from me if I get out of these.”

When you didn’t move right away, he bellowed: “DO IT NOW.”

You scrambled over to the medkit, whipping it open and digging around.

“PROMISE ME—promise me you’ll do it, no matter what I say to you. Promise me right now that you’ll do it! Please.”

You looked up at him, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “I will, I promise, Lo.”

His shoulders slumped in relief.

You rooted around, moving past several other items—you took note of an intravenous hydration pouch and filed that information away for later—until you located the appropriate syringe of sedative.

As soon as you turned and approached Loki, you could tell he was lost again. He flipped so fast that if you’d blinked, you might have missed the subtle shift in his body language.

When you were just a few feet away from him, he threw out a palm—this time, not to reach for you, but to halt your advance.

First, he tried appealing to your reason.

“No, no, darling, don’t. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. What if there’s an interaction between the drugs? Could be dangerous. There’s no way to know.”

It almost worked for a second.

You took another step toward him.

Next, he tried bargaining.

“How can I hurt you when I’m chained up like this? The rest of these will hold, I know they will. And it won’t matter anyways; I won’t need the restraints at all if you just help me—if-if you give me what I need.”

You looked away from him, training your gaze on the floor again. “You know that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I was wrong before; it’s-it’s getting better. I can control myself now. I just need you, and everything will be okay. I’ll be—I’ll be gentle with you, so gentle, I promise.”

You forced out one word: “No.”

He didn’t say anything for a long, drawn-out moment. The tension was so thick that against your better judgment, you looked up again. He looked so anguished, so distressed… shoulders tense and fists clenched. You felt bad for him.

Finally, he tried straight-up seduction.

“Please—just, fuck—I need to fuck you. Your cunt, your mouth, let me fuck you. You can have me however you want me, love.”

All of a sudden, your thoughts were hazy, slow like molasses. You were stuck on the fact that he’d called you love.

“I think about fucking you right here on the floor, bending you over and lick your perfect pussy until you cry for me. I always wonder what you’ll sound like when you’re taking my cock.”

You were trying to block out his words, to ignore the honey dripping from his lips. You just—you just wanted a taste.

“I have to know how you taste.”

So did he, apparently. You clenched your thighs. Fuck, you just wanted him to keep talking.

“I think you’ll make the sweetest fucking sounds when I make you cum—I’ve imagined it. I think you’ll whine for me—but I bet I can make you scream too.”

He’d wanted you, too—all this time.

All this time, you’d both been lusting after each other, separated by nothing more than the wall that stands between your rooms and a healthy dose of doubt.

“I just need to cum, and then this will all be better. I know it. The drug will leave my system. Don’t you want to help me?”

You did want to help him.

Your eyes wandered down his body, and your brain short-circuited when you saw the outline of his aching cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers . It made your mouth water.

You wanted him. He wanted you. Why overthink it?

He could tell that it was working, that you were considering his words, so he continued cautiously, bargaining with you: “You don’t even have to unchain me. Just get down on your knees for me, like a good girl.”

Now THAT made you hesitate, made you stop in your metaphorical and physical tracks—but only because it sent a jolt of pure arousal down your spine, electricity igniting every goddamn nerve in your body so fast and intense it almost hurt.

“Don’t you want to open that mouth for me and suck my cock, pretty baby?”

As if on command, your jaw fell open, tongue darting out to lick your parted lips, and you took another step forward.

Oh, shit.

You did want to. You really fucking did. You wanted to get on your knees for him. You wanted to suck his cock and have him tell you how good you looked doing it. You were aching to hear his praise, to taste him, to make him feel good. He deserved relief.

And so did you.

You wouldn’t even have to unchain him. It would be fine. You’d be safe, and he would feel better.

You took another step.

You were close to him now—you didn’t realize you’d crept this close—almost within his reach.

Loki started talking again, capitalizing on this progress: “Gods, I’ve thought about your sweet mouth, those soft lips, wrapped around my cock, taking me down your throat so well. I think about it every fucking night when I fuck my fist. You’d look so good down on your knees for me,kærasta.”

You watched as he got caught up in his own fantasy, mumbling on and on about every sinful thought he’d ever had about your mouth. You could tell his eyes were closed , his head tipped back in bliss. Gradually, he started bucking his hips forward, like he could actually feel your lips around him, like he was chasing a phantom sensation. He was so completely absorbed in the picture he was painting, so drunk on the potential that for a second, he’d forgotten the literal hell he was currently in.

“Sometimes I can’t even focus when you talk to me because I’m just thinking about how your tongue would feel on the tip of my cock, licking me, sucking… so wet and warm, taking me deep like the good fucking girl you are, letting me fuck your mouth, until I’m cumming down your throat and you’re swallowing for me—swallowing everything I have to give you.”

Fuck, the picture he was painting was enticing you just as much as it was enticing him. It was a picture you’d had in your own head for months, one that you’d made yourself cum to so many times you’d lost count.

Before you could stop yourself, you took that final step toward him and extended your hand. You grazed your fingers over the bulge in his pants, and he was jolted out of his waking dream by your unexpected touch, snapping his head down to watch your fingers stroke him.

He choked on nothing. “Please, baby, please.” He was begging now, but his voice wasn’t soft or pleading like it had been when he was asking you to chain him up. Now, it was furious, demanding, and desperate.

He needed this.

Fuck, who were you kidding? You needed this.

You cupped him, pressing against his erection more firmly, and his hips pressed back, chasing that delicious friction. Your aching cunt clenched around nothing when you registered just how big his cock was under your hand.

You were so close to unbuckling his belt, to unzipping his pants. So fucking close. But a whisper of guilt in the back of your mind made you hesitate. The weight of the syringe in your left fist was an insistent reminder : you’d promised him—sane, right-in-his-mind Loki. You’d promised that Loki that you wouldn’t give in.

Fuck.

You stilled your hand.

Loki’s eyes snapped up, meeting your eyes, and tension pulled taut between you. You were both frozen, paralyzed—you by indecision and he by fury.

The seconds stretched on.

He broke first.

He ripped his right arm forward as hard as he possibly could, and with a furious squeal, the metal panel—the loose one you’d completely forgotten about—started to bend away from the wall even more, exposing a complicated mess of wires and pipes underneath. You watched as two more bolts popped out of place and clattered to the floor somewhere behind you. It was almost fully separated from the wall now; three remaining bolts along the bottom edge struggled to keep it in place against Loki’s brutal strength.

The screeching sound shocked you—dragging you forcefully back to reality—and you yanked your hand away from him, but at the same time, Loki’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder. He was finally able to reach you given the newfound slack in his restraint, and his fingers dug into your flesh, wrenching you forward.

He knocked his head against your forehead, holding you there with an iron grip.

Ouch.

You were so close to him that you could hear the words before and after they hit : “I know you want it. Take it. Take what you need, baby. It’s yours.”

Every breath ripping from his lungs was harsh and labored, his chest heaving. You could feel the rage and pure need radiating off of him in waves. His left fist was clenched so tightly around the chain that the skin around creaked.

“I can’t, Lo,” you said, stern but apologetic.

The energy in the room shifted abruptly at your refusal, and you had the good sense to pull away from him just seconds before Loki reared back and launched himself forward, throwing his whole body toward you, only to be yanked back by the restraints. Those three bolts, the last hope of keeping him fully restrained, squeaked ominously as he jerked his limbs as hard as he could, the chains fully extended. He was snatching at the air a few inches from your chest…. reaching, reaching for you

And you were stuck, frozen in place, watching his fingers hovering in front of you.

In a terrifying voice you didn’t even recognize, he roared: “GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES.”

Oh, he was truly lost. He was beyond recognition, beyond bargaining or soothing. He was enraged, throbbing with need. There was only one course of action now.

Another bolt clattered to the floor.

You dropped to your knees, careful to stay close to the ground and out of his reach as you crawled forward. You were trying so, so hard to not be distracted by the obvious strain of his thick cock against his pants, but now it was directly in front of your fucking face.

He pointed an accusing finger down at the syringe clutched in your left hand. “Don’t. Don’t. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.”

You ignored him, the needle poised over the lower part of his thigh. The next few moments played out in slow motion.

Loki bellowed: “NO!”

He ripped his arm forward again, and the metal panel whined, bending forward even more. Another bolt popped off, skittering across the floor and landing by your feet.

One. One single bolt remained in place.

And his right hand was suspended only a few inches above where you were crouched close to the ground.

Lightning fast, you jabbed the needle into his thigh and emptied it in a matter of seconds. He roared in anger, thrashing against the chains, trying to snatch at your hand. When the entirety of the drug had been injected, you ripped it away and scrambled backwards, getting to your feet. Loki struggled and shuddered for a moment, growling all the while, wrenching his arm farther and farther forward—the metal panel screaming as it bent—centimeter by centimeter.

It was too late—you’d waited too long, and he was going to rip it clean off the wall before the drug hit him.

You reached back blindly, relief spreading through you when your hand landed on Loki’s dagger . You took it and kept it in your hand waiting for the worst to come .

Your finger hovered over the edge of the blade , waiting and hoping .

Loki’s movements were suddenly slower, weaker, less coordinated. You placed the dagger in your pocket and let out a breath of relief as the drug finally seemed to take hold. He took a faltering step backward, and his shoulders hit the wall with a hollow clang. He slurred something incoherent at you, and thankfully, finally… finally, he stilled, head sagging forward drunkenly, arms going slack. He slouched against the wall, knees giving out as he slid to the floor, arms extended up and to the sides by the restraints—the right much lower than the left—and his bent knees slightly splayed.

The position couldn’t be comfortable for him, but you were too scared to adjust his restraints—worried that so much movement would likely rouse him.

You waited a good twenty minutes—pacing back and forth as quietly as possible—finalizing the details of an idea in your head. You waited until you were totally sure he was knocked out before you approached him again. First, you opened his collar and placed it in the middle of the floor—out of his reach, but in a position that you’d be able to grab it if needed. Then, you retrieved the hydration bag you’d noted earlier and your sharpest knife. With those supplies in hand, you tiptoed forward. You squatted on Loki’s left side, gripped his bicep lightly… and waited. When he didn’t move, you continued. You held your breath as you carefully, so carefully to avoid nicking his skin, cut a generous hole in his suit at his elbow.

Hopefully he wouldn’t mind that you were sort of butchering his favorite outfit—you’d offer to sew it later.

As hard as you tried not to, the movement jostled the chains, and they clanked and rattled. It was a quiet sound, but it felt so kriffing loud in the oppressive silence. Loki’s breath hitched slightly, disrupting the deep, regular rhythm of his sleep. His fingers twitched. You froze, then slowly set down your blade and started reaching back for his collar.

To your immense relief, before you could wrap your hand around the metal collar, his breathing returned to normal—slow and steady.

You returned to your task, clipping the IV bag to a pipe on the wall above his slumped shoulder and cleaning the skin over the bulging vein visible through the soft flesh of his inner elbow. He didn’t react to the cold alcohol wipe, but he did jerk violently when you pressed the tip of the needle into his skin. You tensed, ready to drop everything and back away if you needed to, but he stilled again, muscles relaxing. You pressed the needle far enough into his vein and taped it in place. You double-checked that the drip was working, then backed away slowly, taking your blade and the phone with you.

You waited like that, leaned against the opposite wall of the room, collar never out of reach. You were unwilling to let him out of your sight, so you remained there, tense and waiting. When the IV bag was empty, you scurried forward and peeled back the tape on his arm—painfully slowly—and eased the needle out before you scrambled back to your spot.

Over two hours after he had passed out, he stirred, head lifting slowly.

“Lo?”

He looked around for a moment, studying his surroundings. He gripped the chains in his fists and attempted to pull himself up, faltering slightly before he eventually succeeded by bracing his back against the wall. He looked slightly unsteady on his feet. His eyes found your face across the hull, and he rasped your name.

“How do you feel?”

His voice was dry and croaky. “Better… I feel better. Normal.”

“Good.”

He stood there, relaxed, getting his bearings. All the rage and tension had left his body. He looked like himself again.

“How long has it been?”

“Since I knocked you out? About two hours.”

He cocked his head. “I thought the drug would have lasted longer.”

“I gave you fluids to flush it out of your system faster,” you explained, tapping the inside of your own elbow to demonstrate.

He looked down at his cut up shirt.

“Good thinking,” he nodded.

“Yeah, and thank fucking God it worked,” you laughed. “You started to get scary there at the end.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head in shame.

“Do you remember anything?”

He looked up at you. “I remember everything.” Then, glancing up at the bent panel above his right shoulder, he continued, “I’m sorry, darling. I would never have forgiven myself if I hurt you.”

You noted the use of a pet name, wondering if this new habit of his would persist. You hoped it would.

You gave him a sympathetic look, shaking your head. “You weren’t yourself. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “Still—I’m sorry. But, you can unchain me. It’s safe now. I promise.”

You stayed where you were.

He seemed normal again, but you’d witnessed just how persuasive drugged Loki could be.

Luckily, he could read your hesitation. “It’s okay,” he reassured you. “I understand. Let’s give it some more time. I want you to feel safe.”

He leaned back against the wall and started sliding down to his seated position.

His sudden patience was all the confirmation you needed.

“I believe you.”

He flicked his head back up to look at you and straightened, watching you as you took a few steps toward him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

He quirked his head at you. “About what?”

You wavered for a second, doubt creeping into your mind. What if it really was the drug talking the whole time? What if he only said all those things because he was out of his mind, desperate to fuck anyone… and you just happened to be in front of him?

You steeled yourself. The only way to know was to ask: “That you want me? That you’ve always wanted me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t just the drug talking?”

He scoffed: “No, it wasn’t.”

A mixture of relief and want settled in your belly. And you could finally have what you wanted.

You approached him slowly. When you were standing directly in front of him, instead of reaching for his restraints, you hooked your fingers in his belt. Loki watched your movements, his arms straining forward slightly.

“What are y—”

He choked on his words when you started to unbuckle his belt. He moaned when you unzipped his trousers and pulled out his aching cock. It was still red and leaking, throbbing with need in your hand. His mind might have been clear, and he might have been in control of himself now, but the physical effects of the drug had clearly not worn off fully.

You looked up at him through your lashes and licked your lips suggestively, then flicked your eyes back down to his cock in your hand.

Loki’s head dropped back against the wall with a hollow clank. “Oh shit, oh fuck, yes p-please, baby, please—”

Before he could finish his stuttering request, you sank to your knees and took him as far into your mouth as you possibly could. He let out a broken moan when he slipped past your lips, canting his hips forward to chase the welcoming heat of your mouth. He was big, and you had to wrap your hand around the base of his cock to cover the length that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He shuddered above you, tilting his head down to watch you. You paused there, holding him, hot and heavy on your tongue. You waited a long moment, taking advantage of the fact that he was totally at your mercy. The longer you waited, the more he fidgeted, hips inching forward, cock twitching impatiently.

“I—”

When he started to speak, you interrupted him by giving him exactly what he wanted, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking hard. You thought back to what he’d said to you, replaying all those things he’d imagined you doing to him. You pulled back to circle your tongue along the head of his leaking cock and flicked it along his slit, working the rest of him with your slick hand.

While you bobbed up and down on him, your other hand wandered up his thigh and rucked his pants lower, easing his balls free. You massaged them, manipulating them between your fingers, and Loki’s head lolled back again, his head clunking dully against the wall. His knees buckled slightly, the chains connected to his wrists pulling taut as he gripped them. In the space where you had cut his shirt away, you could see his muscles rippling, the veins swelling under his pale skin as he flexed.

Taking him in your mouth had you aching for him, clenching your thighs together to try and relieve the growing tension. Losing patience, you released his balls and snaked that hand under your own waistband to press down on your swollen clit and whined around his thick cock.

Loki snapped his head down at the needy sound. His eyes followed your movement, and he gritted out, “Shit, does this turn you on, sucking my cock like this? Are you wet for me?”

You hummed around his cock and ran your fingers through your wet folds then extracted your hand from your pants, reaching up to drag your glistening fingertips over Loki’s knuckles where his fist was clenched around the chains.

“Fuuhhh-ckkk, I can’t wait to taste you, to feel how wet you are.”

With that same hand, you reached down and unzipped your pants. Loki let out an inarticulate string of syllables above you as he watched you tug your pants and panties halfway down your thighs with one hand. You let him slip from your mouth for a moment—working him over with long, tight strokes of your slippery hand in the meantime—to say, “Keep talking, tell me how you’re going to fuck me, Lo .”

You took him back into your mouth, and as you rubbed tight circles over your clit, he started rambling on about all the things he wanted to do to you, all the ways he wanted to explore your body: “F-fuck yes, I want to taste your pussy, I want to watch you finger yourself just like this until you’re dripping then-then let me lick your fingers clean—”

You whined around his girth; your body was responding to his words, the tension coiling tight and hot in your core. Your knees slid apart slightly on the slippery floor. They were going to be bruised blue and purple tomorrow. Worth it.

“Th-then I want to put a blindfold on you and-and lick your clit until you cum on my tongue. Yeah—oh shit, baby, yes, just like that, hnghhh—then, then I want to fuck you from behind, hard and deep, until you’re soaking my co—”

You moaned shamelessly, the sound vibrating deep in your throat, and he choked above you.

“Are-are you going to make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth?”

His eyes were glued to your face, the chain resting on his chestplate, as he angled his head down to watch you. You nodded slightly, eyes wide and desperate, pupils blown with lust, as you did your best to keep up your steady pace on his cock while you were simultaneously falling apart yourself. As the tension in your body built, your mouth and hand faltered on him, losing their rhythm, and your ministrations were suddenly stunted and irregular.

“Gods, you’re so perfect—use both hands on yourself, put-put your—”

You had all but stopped moving everything but the hand between your legs, eyes falling closed as you focused completely on your own impending orgasm. Following his directions, you dropped the hand on his cock down to your cunt, spreading your thighs more to push two fingers inside yourself. You let out another muffled noise, and you could tell that he loved the sounds you made with his cock stuffed in your mouth by the way his hips bucked forward.

One of your hands worked over the stiff peak of your clit, the other thrusting your fingers in and out of you, and that feeling—that delicious, fucking fantastic tension that had been building since the moment Loki had said he wanted to fuck you hours ago—threatened to snap.

“K-keep it in your mouth, just like that and make yourself cum—you’re close, I can tell you’re close—shit, fucking shit—”

He was throbbing on your tongue, pulsing with need. In the absence of the slick sounds of your mouth and hand working over his length, you could hear the sound of your own wetness as your fingers moved in and out of your dripping cunt.

“That’s right, pretty baby, cum with my cock in your mouth—fuck, I can hear how wet you are—look-look up at me—”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him just as your cunt tightened around your fingers. You let out a muffled wail around his girthy length as you came, and he groaned low and deep as he pressed his hips forward to keep himself buried in your mouth.

You slowed your hands to a still as the final reverberations of your pleasure waned, your moan fading to a quiet whimper. You pulled off Loki’s cock with a slick pop to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now you’re going to cum in my mouth.”

“Fuuckk—”

You gripped the base of his hard, leaking cock and wrapped your lips around him once more.

Right away, he started thrusting into your mouth, his knees buckling, most of his weight suspended on the chains gripped in his hands.

“C-close—”

His voice cut out, words replaced by feral moans and grunts, as he bucked into you.

You hummed around him, running your free hand up his quad, hooking it around the back of his leg to hold him in place against you. You could feel the way his muscles strained and clenched under your palm as his body grew taut.

“I’m—hnngh—”

He came with a hoarse shout that quickly got so loud that his voice cracked and gave out completely. And when you thought he was done, he was somehow still cumming, spilling hot and salty down your throat. You swallowed around him, taking everything he had to give you, until he stilled and you let him slip out of your mouth.

You pulled your pants up loosely around your hips and stood in front of him, swiping your knuckles across your glistening bottom lip.

Loki caught his breath and straightened, using the chains to pull himself up. That yank on his arm restraints proved to be the final straw for that solitary remaining bolt. You both whipped your heads up when—with a defeated whine—that piece of durasteel was ripped away, skidded down the wall, and crashed to the floor.

You looked at each other at the same time.

“So… how do you want me first?”

“Unchain me, and I’ll show you.”

***

[emptyultimatum]

GOOD GIRL

Avenger Loki x gender neutral!reader In which Loki changes things up a little

~ SMUT!! [ fingering, praise, light breast play, light oral, references to vaginal s3x ]

~ TW!! [ character injury but mild ]

I meant it as a joke, you thought to yourself, half ruefully, half gleefully. But as the quivering, spread legs before you revealed a dripping, fluttering cunt, you could hardly call your thoughts regret. 

It all started with the mission. Twenty-four escaped convicts, an easy night out for the Avengers. Technically, it was below Avenger status (not exactly world-saving, after all), but Tony was trying to make a good impression on the U.S. government, so the superhuman heroes spent a lot of time running errands for the White House. You and Peter were on it, an easy fix. Honestly, either one of you could’ve done it alone. 

You went left, Spider-Man went right. There were supposed to be an even split, but the numbers changed too quickly to communicate. You soared over the frigid treetops, angel wings beating the air, when a harpoon speared through your feathers. You crashed to the ground, keening with pain. 

Six criminals got away. Peter handled the other eighteen, but the damage was done. They sent Vision after the last six and helicoptered the two of them back to Stark Towers. 

Loki, as one can imagine, was distraught. 

“What happened? Parker, who did this to her? She needs medical assistance—”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Curlicues?” Tony Stark gestured to the corner with his chin. “Go over there and sit like a good girl.”

An unfamiliarly dangerous spark lit Loki’s features. You cocked your head curiously through the pain, but Tony blew him a kiss. Loki hissed through his teeth, but backed off, letting Tony scan your gaping wound.

“You know, I always wondered if these things were illusions,” Tony mused, tapping on his holographic screens. “They appear out of nowhere, it doesn’t make sense, unless—” 

“Pocket dimension,” you gritted, as Bruce Banner and Tony snapped their fingers in unison. 

“That does make sense,” Bruce said brightly.

A red syringe-shaped arm popped out of the side of the medical bed. It blasted freezing nanoparticles over the gash in your wing, then retracted. Enhanced healing patches were placed over the bruises and road rash along your arm and thighs, and Tony gave you a jar of skin-repair salve for later. A few adrenaline injections to the arm later, and you were feeling much better. 

“Can I see my boyfriend now? He might tear a hole through all nine realms if you don’t let him check on me,” you rolled your eyes, beckoning Loki over. 

He pushed past Tony, elbowing him out of the way. “Darling, are you okay?”

“You’re welcome,” Stark said. “No problem. I’ll just go over here and lick my ass, I guess.”

“Yes, do that,” Loki muttered. Tony winked at him, deadpan. 

“I’m much better,” you reassured him, flexing the wing and drawing his attention. “I heal quickly, remember? The worst was the pain, but it won’t linger.” 

“Good. Then let’s get to your bed. You need rest.” Loki scooped you up. The world wavered in a flash of green, blinding and strong, and suddenly they were back in their old, cozy room. A sweater lay, forgotten, on a chair. A few snack wrappers and… other kinds of wrappers lay scattered about the floor. 

“Oh it’s a mess,” you smacked your forehead. “Good thing they healed me in the med bay and not here.”  “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” he assured you, his eyes sincere. “Just take it easy, dearest.” 

“What’s got you all worried, Lo?” you laughed, cupping his cheek. “I’m fine. I’ve been hurt worse before.” 

“Yes, but that was before we were together. Additionally, I fear I’m facing some… insecurity, as it were.” He glanced away, cheeks pinking. 

“Insecurity? About what?” 

“I- nothing. It’s no matter. We shall discuss later,” he brushed you off, standing. “Please, let me clean for you.” 

You grinned up at him. “If you say so. Thanks for cleaning for me, Loki. You’re such a good girl.” 

You put a growl on it, a low, sultry purr. The tone of voice you usually said good boy or beg for me in. You meant it as a joke, a demeaning one, a call back to Tony’s patronizing snub. 

Instead, you saw something liquify in Loki’s eyes. That same look he got when his cock was in your hands, or your teeth were sinking into his skin. 

And being yourself, you capitalized on it. 

“Do you like that?” you cooed, arching an eyebrow. “Do you want to be my pretty girl, Loki? My good little obedient princess?”

Oh, you had him cornered. His bottom lip trembled with thinly held control, his eyes darting back and forth, warring with himself. 

You reached up, pulling him back down, so that he kneeled before you. You locked his gaze with your own. 

“If you want to be my good girl,” you said gently, “You can.”

Loki shuddered, and slowly, his shoulders began to slough down and round off. His frame turned slighter, more slender, and his chest swelled. He was daintier, but still with the shoulder-length choppy hair and wild silver eyes. He was no he at all. She was Loki. A tall, wiry, masc Loki, with a dripping mess between her legs. 

Loki whimpered as you laughed aloud, running your hands through that silky black hair. “Oh, you pretty girl, so many tricks up your sleeve! Why don’t you strip for me, so we can see what pretty trick you have up your pants.”

You had never seen Loki undress so quickly. 

And so, here you were, Loki breathless and growling beneath you, your fingers sliding into Loki’s slippery, throbbing mess. You curled your fingers acutely, and Loki bucked up into your hand. 

“Naughty,” you cooed. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. Stay still.”

“Please, love,” Loki begged, her cheeks flushed red. “Please let me cum.” 

“Behave,” you scolded. “And maybe I’ll consider it.” 

Loki let out the prettiest keening sound you’d ever heard. You giggled, leaning forward, wrapping your lips around Loki’s pulsating clit. You sucked, hard, and she moaned again, her legs clamping around your head.

“Is this the insecurity you were dealing with, pet?” you asked, stroking the pad of your thumb over Loki’s sensitive, aching clit. “Were you lost?” 

She nodded, eyes screwed shut with pleasure and humiliation. “I wasn’t sure how you’d —fuck— react.” 

You smiled, running your hand flat up her belly, cupping a tender breast, and squeezing. “Pretty girl. I’d never want you to be anything less than yourself.” 

Her eyes opened, beautiful and silver as always. Loki smiled up at you, holding your hand over her breast. “Sweet love,” she murmured. 

“Besides,” you gave her a sharklike smile. “Now I get to fuck you. Spread your legs.” 

With a whimper, she complied. 

[fa1rydr3ams]

“Holiday Wars”

Submissive Loki Laufeyson x Dom Gn! Reader

| cw: nsfw, humor, mild language, enemies-to-lovers tension

| a/n: day 19 of ficmas check the ficmas tab on the pixie list for the next update!

| wc: n/a

The moment you stepped into the main floor of Stark Tower, you could feel the tension thick enough to rival the snowstorm raging outside. Strings of half-hung lights dangled precariously from the ceiling, and boxes of ornaments were scattered across the room like abandoned chess pieces in a game you weren’t winning. Loki stood in the middle of the chaos, arms folded, his sharp features set in an expression of pure disdain.

“You call this festive?” he drawled, his British lilt dripping with derision as he gestured at the half-decorated room. “It looks like a reindeer vomited on the walls.”

“And yet you’re the one standing there doing absolutely nothing to fix it,” you shot back, dropping the box of decorations you’d been hauling onto the nearest table. You rolled your shoulders, already exhausted, though it wasn’t from the decorating. Babysitting Loki was more draining than fighting off an alien invasion.

He smirked, the kind that made you want to hurl a candy cane at his stupidly perfect face. “I wasn’t aware that babysitting included manual labor. Though I must say, you do look fetching covered in tinsel.”

You glanced down at the stray strand of gold tinsel clinging to your sweater and brushed it off with a scowl. “If I wanted sass, I’d hang out with Tony,” you muttered. “Now, are you actually going to help, or are you just going to stand there and critique my hard work?”

Loki arched a brow, his pale green eyes glittering with amusement. “Why would I sully my hands with such trivialities when you seem so adept at it?”

The audacity of this man. You closed the distance between the two of you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, heat prickling at the base of your neck. “You’re on house arrest, Laufeyson. You don’t exactly have the luxury of picking and choosing your duties.”

“I am hardly a servant,” he replied, the haughty tone of a prince slipping into his words. “And I have no intention of wasting my divine talents on—”

“Divine talents?” you interrupted, snorting. “You’ve been stuck here for weeks, and the only thing you’ve managed to do is annoy the hell out of everyone.”

His smirk widened. “A skill I’ve perfected, wouldn’t you agree?”

For a brief moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent battle, the twinkling lights around you casting playful shadows on his annoyingly sharp cheekbones. The air between you was charged, not unlike the static that zaps your fingertips when handling too much tinsel. And maybe, just maybe, there was something more simmering beneath the irritation.

“Fine,” you said, breaking the silence with an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re not going to help, you can at least hand me the ornaments while I fix your disaster of a garland.”

“Ordering me around now, are we?” he mused, taking a leisurely step closer. His voice dipped slightly, rich with suggestion. “I wonder what else you think you can command of me.”

You refused to give him the satisfaction of blushing, though his words sent a shiver down your spine. Plucking an ornament from the table, you shoved it into his hands. “Start with this. Then we’ll see how useful you really are.”

He leaned in, his lips quirking at the corners, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh, I assure you, darling. I can be very… useful.”

Your breath hitched, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. But you weren’t about to let Loki win this little game. Not yet.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to back down from the sultry edge in his voice or the spark dancing in his eyes. Instead, you smirked, stepping even closer until you were nearly toe-to-toe with him.

“Is that so?” you said, your tone light and teasing as you reached up and looped the end of a stray ribbon dangling from his collar around your finger. You gave it a playful tug, forcing him to dip his head just slightly. “Then prove it.”

Loki’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second—just enough for you to see the flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance. “You truly are a tyrant, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Takes one to know one,” you replied, releasing the ribbon with a flick of your wrist. You stepped around him, brushing your shoulder against his arm as you went. “Now, hang the damn ornament.”

You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching you. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, the weight of it sending a thrill through you that you tried very hard to ignore. Loki Laufeyson might be infuriating, but he was also intoxicating in the worst way possible.

You busied yourself with the garland, trying to focus on fluffing the greenery and securing the strands that had come loose. But the sound of his footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate, made your hands falter.

“You know,” he said, his voice dangerously close to your ear, “I never thought mortal holidays could be so… stimulating.”

The way he said the word made your stomach flip. You turned your head slightly, finding him much closer than you expected, his breath warm against your skin.

“Careful, Loki,” you warned, though your voice lacked the bite you intended. “You might actually start enjoying yourself.”

He chuckled, low and rich, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I think I already am.”

The tension between you crackled like a yule log in the fire, and you knew you were walking a razor-thin line. Still, you couldn’t help but lean into it, just a little. Maybe it was the holiday spirit—or maybe it was the way his smirk softened ever so slightly when you met his gaze.

“You missed a spot,” you murmured, pointing to a bare patch of garland just above his shoulder.

“Did I?” he replied, but he made no move to step away.

“Mm-hmm.” You tilted your head, eyes locking with his as a daring smile curved your lips. “Guess you’ll have to fix it.”

The room felt too warm all of a sudden, the faint hum of Christmas music in the background fading as the space between you grew smaller.

As Loki's eyes sparkled with mischief, he slowly raised his hands, his fingers brushing against the garland. "I suppose I have no choice but to rectify this situation," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his breath dancing across your skin.

With a deliberate slowness, he began to weave the garland around the banister, his hands moving with an oddly sensual precision that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but notice the way his fingers stroked the greenery, the gentle tug of the ribbon as he secured it in place.

The air was thick with tension, the silence between you punctuated only by the soft rustle of the garland and the distant sound of holiday music. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the blue seeming to darken.

Loki's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding yours captive as he stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing. You could feel the warmth of his body, the whisper of his breath on your skin, and your pulse began to pound in your veins like a drum.

The room seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a world of sparkling lights and forbidden desire. And as Loki's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, you knew that this holiday decorating was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

As Loki's hand touched yours, a spark of electricity ran through your body, and you felt your heart skip a beat. The garland, once the focus of your attention, was now forgotten, dangling limply from the banister as you both stood there motionless.

You held Loki's gaze, your eyes locked onto his, as you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding him in place. His eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and anticipation, but he tried to pull away, a faint pout forming on his lips.

"Let me go," he said, his voice low and petulant, but his eyes betrayed him, flashing with a hint of excitement. You didn't release your grip, instead, you tugged him closer, your fingers tightening around his wrist.

"I think we've decorated enough for one day," you said, your voice low as you leaned in, your breath whispering against his ear. Loki's eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttering closed, and he let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into yours.

But as your lips brushed against his, he jerked back, his eyes snapping open, a look of mock indignation on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

You just smiled, your lips curling up in a small grin, and pulled him back in, your tongue probing deeper into his mouth. Loki's body responded, his hands coming up to push against your chest, but his fingers curled into your shirt, holding on instead of pushing away.

As you deepened the kiss, Loki's eyes fluttered closed, his body melting into yours, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore his mouth. But even as he surrendered to the kiss, he still tried to maintain a semblance of control, his hands gripping your shirt, his fingers digging into your skin.

You could feel the tension in his body, the conflicting desires warring within him, and you knew that he was torn between wanting to resist and wanting to give in. But as the kiss grew more intense, Loki's resistance began to crumble, his body relaxing into yours, his lips softening, his tongue tangling with yours in a sensual dance.

As you broke apart for a moment, gasping for air, Loki's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a fierce desire, but his lips still curled into a pout. "I didn't want to do that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but his eyes told a different story.

You smiled, a low, husky laugh escaping your lips as you gazed into Loki's eyes. "Is that true?" you teased, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your mouth certainly didn't make it seem that way." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "It seemed like you were enjoying yourself, like you couldn't get enough."

Loki's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desire, his face inches from yours. "Shut up," he muttered, his voice low and rough, but his body betrayed him, leaning in closer, his lips almost touching yours.

You chuckled, a soft, seductive sound, and Loki's eyes seemed to glaze over, his pupils dilating as he gazed into yours. You could see the conflict within him, the war between his desire for control and his desire for surrender. And you knew that you were winning, that he was slowly giving in to his desires.

Without another word, you leaned in, your lips capturing his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Loki's resistance crumbled, his body melting into yours, his lips softening, his tongue tangling with yours in a sensual dance. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. Loki gave in, completely and utterly, his body surrendering to yours, his lips, his tongue, his every fiber responding to your touch.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Loki's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a fierce, unspoken desire. You could see the surrender in his eyes, the acceptance of his own desires, and it only fueled your own passion.

Without a word, you took Loki's hand, pulling him towards the couch. He followed, his eyes never leaving yours, his body seeming to move of its own accord. You pushed him down onto the couch, his back against the cushions, and then you sat down on his lap, straddling him with your legs.

Loki's eyes flashed with surprise, but then his gaze dropped to your lips, and he seemed to forget all about his surroundings. His hands came up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heat, his desire, and it only made you want him more.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "You're so cute like this," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

Loki's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and desire, but he didn't push you away. Instead, he seemed to melt into your touch, his body relaxing into yours. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

You smiled, a slow, inviting smile, and then leaned in, your lips capturing his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Loki's body arched up, his hips pressing against yours, and you could feel the desire building between you, a desire that threatened to consume you both.

As you kissed, you could feel Loki's hands moving, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, the swell of your hips. You could feel his need, and thought he wouldn’t admit it, he wanted you. You were lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of Loki's body beneath yours, lost in the taste of his lips, the feel of his skin.

You pulled away one last time, your hand pulling through his long black hair, looking directly into his eyes. He looked between each eye, his gaze darting back and forth, and you could see him trying to focus his attention. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the only sound the heavy breathing and the pounding of your hearts.

Loki's eyes were glazed, his pupils dilated, and his face was flushed with desire. You could see the desire written all over his face, the need, the want, the surrender. And in that moment, you knew that you had him, completely and utterly.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, and whispered, "Good job, Loki." The words sent a shiver down his spine, and he smiled goofily, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the energy, and anticipation in his eyes.

suggestions for other fandoms I should write for after ficmas is over?

dividers by @anitalenia !