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bleughs · 10 months

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woof woof bark i ate this up and left no crumbs !!!!!!! more sub loki representation please 🙏😵‍💫

𝐀𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 (𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐠

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Unexpectedly, Loki was on his knees just as you had instructed.

His slender, muscled legs were folded neatly beneath him and the hands that could pluck pleasure from you effortlessly were clasped behind his strong back. He was the perfect picture of wilful submission and regretted actions.

He was your beautiful boy ready and waiting to atone for his disobedience.

Your footsteps were muffled by the expensive carpet underfoot, each one bringing you closer to the god kneeling before you, but still, Loki didn’t so much as raise his eyes. Nor did he voice even the whisper of a complaint at how long you had kept him waiting, kept him aching and throbbing for that days denied release.

Not that it was your fault. Not entirely, anyway.

Ten minutes you had promised him. Ten minutes and you would leave the debriefing to deliver his punishment for touching himself without your permission, but ten minutes had quickly become fifteen and then twenty before you finally excused yourself. Foolishly, you had permitted yourself the luxury of daydreaming about the night ahead - of Loki’s moans and pleas to be allowed release, of the feel of his muscles jumping beneath your teasing touch, and the strangled sound of your name from his lips if you granted him that climax.

The thought of him splayed out like your Asgardian whore was one you could spend days devouring.

But the reality spread out before you surpassed even your filthiest daydreams.

Loki’s firm thighs were spread wide on the bedroom floor, drawing attention to his hard and weeping cock that begged for your attention. You could feel the frustration pulsing off him in waves, could hear the unspoken plea for your attention in the way he kept his head bowed.

“Please, Mistress. Touch me.”

His silent request permeated the air of the room. You knew how desperately he craved the release, how badly he wanted to come undone beneath your hand, and you almost crumbled.

Until you saw the collar he had placed around his neck.

Something molten stirred deep in your stomach and sent arousal pooling mercilessly between your thighs. Here was this man, this god, who rarely let anyone see behind the carefully crafted mask he wore kneeling before you in nothing but a collar.

It was a small, near inconsequential thing that made you want to devour him, to have him writhing in pleasure so intense he couldn’t see straight.

But not yet.

He hadn’t earned it yet.

You approached him without saying a word and he only tilted his head upwards once you had stopped directly before him. Your eyes dropped quickly to his, your indifferent gaze meeting the silent plea reflected in his.

Please touch me, Mistress.

With a half smile curling on your lips your hand threaded easily through his mess of curls, tugging gently just the way you knew he liked. His breath hitched quietly in his chest the moment your fingers made contact, and you didn’t miss the soft press of his head into the palm of your hand.

He was desperate for your touch.

“Have you been kneeling all this time, my love?” you asked quietly, sultrily. From the bottom of your vision, you saw his cock twitch.

Loki’s reply was instant, as though he feared even the briefest hesitation might cost him his pleasure - pleasure you still hadn’t decided if you were going to permit.

“Yes, Mistress.” His voice was soft, submissive, and so unlike the usual cooly controlled baritone that filled the rooms of the compound.

This was a side of him only you ever got to see.

You hummed your approval and bent down to kiss him, drinking in the warmth of his lips and the desperate way he kissed you back. “Good boy,” you praised him, delighting in the small whine that tumbled freely from him when you drew back.

“You sound a little needy this evening, my love,” you taunted him, freeing his curls to instead cup his cheek. You could feel the warm blood beneath rising to the surface to paint him pink. “What do you need?”

A soft grunt escaped him when you let your thumb ghost across his flushed skin, and he shifted only a fraction on his knees. “You, Mistress. Please. I need you.” His green eyes held yours, silently begging for mercy, for release.

“Poor thing,” you cooed. “What do you need me to do, hmm? Do you need me to touch you?” you asked, letting your hand run down his naked chest. Beneath your touch, Loki couldn’t suppress a shiver. You watched with delight as his muscles flexed beneath his unmarred skin, rippling to life in search of more.

“Do you need me to kiss you?” you continued, bending to press your lips to his again. It was slow and deep and made your core clench with need. Kissing him was as easy as breathing, as familiar to you as the beat of your own heart, and you inwardly mirrored Loki’s huff of disappointment when you drew back again.

“Mistress, please…,” he pleaded, those big, green eyes locking intently with yours.

You didn’t answer, but his gaze never once left you as you crouched in front of him. “Do you need me to let you come?” you asked sweetly, giving a single, swift stroke of his throbbing cock.

He gave a stuttered cry at the brief pleasure, his mouth forming a perfect O while his hips jutted forward in search of more friction. Friction you weren’t going to give him.

“I was going to let you come tonight. More than once. But then you touched yourself without permission,” you taunted him, watching cold fear trickle slowly through him.

Pink lips fell apart to allow his tongue to briefly dart out between them and you watched his face slacken in degrees before you. Those big, green eyes that usually shone and danced with untold mischief suddenly went wide and filled with silent pleading, with a promise that he would never again disobey you if you granted him his pleasure.

A rush of power went straight to your head. You had this god on his knees for you, ready and waiting to do whatever you wished if it meant an end to his torment. It was a feeling you could get drunk on.

You stood back to your full height with Loki’s eyes locked on you the entire time - watching closely for what you were going to do next, for how you would make him atone for his mistake.

The possibilities were endless.

You cupped his cheek again, keeping him grounded as you spoke. “You know I’ll have to punish you for this,” you said easily, watching as colour flooded his pale skin like the first petals of a new rose.

Even a master of sorcery couldn\t hide his excitement.

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at the same time a new light began to sparkle in his eyes. “Yes, Mistress. Please….please punish me.” Loki’s voice shook, but you knew that it wasn’t due to fear or panic at what awaited him.

It was pure, unadulterated arousal.

There was the barest trace of raggedness to his breathing and you knew without a doubt that his heart was thundering in his chest. Your Asgardian prince - your Asgardian whore - thrilled to the bone at how you were going to punish him for his misdeeds.

With a tiny smirk curling your lips you slid your hand from his cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear and feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “What’s your safe word, my love?” you asked him, threading your fingers lightly through some errant curls.

“R-red,” he choked out quickly, swaying slightly on his knees.

“Good boy,” you replied and twisted your hand back into his hair. “I want you bent over with your hands on the bedroom wall. Now.”

Loki unfolded to his full height without hesitation; unusual in itself when he normally delighted in seeing how long he could be a brat. You had expected to hear his usual “and what if I don’t?”, expected to see the barest glimmer of defiance in his eyes and the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

None of that came. Tonight, he was willingly complacent, fully submissive, and eager to obey his queen’s every command.

He remained as elegant as ever as he moved across the room, likely feeling your lustful gaze locked on his back. He was so impossibly beautiful that it was near impossible to pull your eyes from him, to stop admiring the stretch of his calves and ripple of his thigh muscles, the gentle flex of his sharp shoulder blades.

The subtle bounce of his ass with every quick step.

Arousal pooled like liquid sin between your thighs, its fiery hold threatening to engulf you as you watched Loki bend over and place his palms on the wall. The muscles in his strong back fluttered with his every tiny movement, and he didn’t need your command to stand with his legs spread.

“Lower,” you said quietly, your approach going unnoticed while he obediently shuffled his palms down the wall.

You drank in the sight before you, filing it away for the inevitable needy nights you would spend without him in the future; the quiver of muscle in his strong thighs, the perfect dip of his back as he remained bent over, the way the pale skin of his ass cried out for your marks. You knew after days of edging and denying him Loki wouldn’t last long tonight, but with how perfectly whorish he looked waiting for his punishment, neither would you.

“What am I going to do with you, my love, hmm?” you asked slowly, unable to resist stroking your hand over his ass. Your soft touch promised gentleness and lulled him into a false sense of security, so the sudden stinging smack that came a moment later pulled a sharp, startled cry from his throat.

“Tha…thank you, Mistress!” he said, quickly remembering himself and shifting on his feet in preparation for the next smack.

You ran a hand soothingly over his cheek, delighting in how a faint tinge of pink was already beginning to blossom beneath his pale skin. How you itched to make every inch of his perfect ass glow.

“You remembered your manners. Good boy,” you praised him, snaking your hand around his hips to grant him a single, lazy stroke as reward.

His entire body jerked at your touch, the featherlight grip of your hand almost being too much for him. You heard his sharp intake of breath and how it left him in a soft grunt of pleasure. His excitement dripped from him slowly, his cock so angry and throbbing so desperately that you almost took pity on him.

Almost.

“Poor baby,” you taunted him, delivering another light smack to his pink skin. “If you hadn’t disobeyed me, I’d be taking you in my mouth right now and all that waiting would be over.”

His quiet curse followed you as you headed for your drawer of toys and you couldn’t help but smirk. While you adored submitting to him, there was something addictive about having his pleasure in your hands, to have him guessing just what you were going to pull out in order to punish his disobedience.

It only took you a moment to find it - the black leather paddle you favoured on these occasions, the small bottle of lube, and the green plug that you knew from experience bordered on just the right side of uncomfortable.

You could already hear Loki’s broken moans as it filled him.

He was still holding his position when you let the drawer slide close with an intentional bang, tensing only a fraction as your footsteps approached. You could feel the anticipation pulsing beneath his every pore; had you gone with the crop? The flogger? The whip? How long would you continue the excruciating wait before delivering that first blow?

To his credit he hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t so much as flexed a finger in impatience, though you knew from experience that the strings of his resolve were likely pulled taut and ready to snap with each second your hand wasn’t on him.

You couldn’t help the hesitation, though. Not when he looked like the Devil’s favourite dream against your bedroom wall.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it? Not knowing what I’m going to do to you?” you murmured, tracing a single finger over the supple swell of his ass and along the hollow of his spine.

A broken grunt of pleasure pushed through his lips in tandem with his back dipping in an almost perfect arch beneath your teasing touch, and you swore you heard a strangled “please” from beneath his bowed head.

Gods, he was so perfect.

Your hand continued along the firm muscles of his upper back until it tangled in his mess of curls. Easily, you brushed them to the side, relishing how he fought to suppress a shiver when you leaned down and grazed your teeth along the shell of his ear.

“Why don’t you see if you can guess?” You gave his ass another light smack for encouragement, watching his flesh ripple in response as you folded to your knees behind him.

Between his spread thighs you caught sight of his flushed cock twitching with excitement and unspent release. No matter what you decided to do to him, no matter what heady mixture of pleasure and pain you came up with to punish him, your little whore would likely enjoy every last second of it.

You heard his broken inhale of breath - a telltale sign of how valiantly he was fighting the arousal that was no doubt building like a summer storm inside him. “You’re…you’re going to spank me, Mistress…ugh!” He groaned audibly in surprise when you began to run your hands along the backs of his powerful thighs and over his ass.

“I am, but you’re not getting off that easily,” you confirmed, finding you were unable to resist the temptation of pressing your lips to his thighs. They were soft at first, leaving nothing but gentle, loving kisses in their wake, but you quickly added enough pressure to nip at his skin and leave your mark.

His sudden cry of surprise had something dangerously molten stir to life between your thighs.

When he spoke next, his voice was ragged. “You’re going to…,” you heard him pause to clear his throat, “you’re going to deny me,” he said quietly, the simple sentence sounding more like a statement of acceptance rather than a question.

“Hmm, I haven’t decided on that yet,” you answered sweetly, halfway towards pinching the cheek that was still faintly pink when a new idea formed. Before he could utter any kind of reply you quickly bent forward and sank your teeth into his ass, nearly losing all sense of yourself at the deep moan of satisfaction that tumbled from his lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed out heavily, his hips snapping against nothing at the surge of arousal it had sent shooting through him.

You laughed darkly at his reaction, sitting back on your knees and reaching for the plug you had thrown to the side. “Well, I’m filing that away for future,” you teased him, squirting some lube over the plug's head. “Do you give up?”

Obsidian curls danced along his upper back in a broken rhythm as he nodded, almost eagerly. “Yes, Mistress.”

Your smirk of satisfaction went unseen by him. “As you wish,” you purred, parting his cheeks with one hand and pressing the tip of the of the plug against him. Instantly, Loki’s whole body went tense at the foreign sensation and, just as quickly, you slid your hand to run it soothingly along his lower back “It’s ok, my love, you’ve done this before. Be a good boy for me and take it.”

He answered with a barely audible whimper but relaxed at the soothing sound of your voice. “More, Mistress. Please,” he pleaded, pushing back against the light force of the plug.

“Begging for me to plug your ass. God, you’re such a whore,” you taunted him, easing the plug further in and listening to him moan shamelessly at each extra inch.

You stopped as often as he needed to adjust, but the deep, guttural sounds of need that spilled from him in an unbroken melody only served to spur you on, encouraging you to fuck his ass with the plug and only stopping when he began to enjoy himself too much.

“I don’t think this is a punishment for you at all, love,” you teased him, pushing the plug all the way in and returning to your feet. He was panting slightly when you brushed the soft curtain of curls back from his face once again. “Colour?” you asked him simply.

Loki didn’t even hesitate. “Green, Mistress.”

“Good boy,” you praised him, bending down to kiss the back of his head. “I’m very proud of you.”

He seemed to stand a little taller at your praise and, even bent as he was, you could see the way his chiseled chest puffed out with pride. With a last tap to his perfect ass, you retrieved the paddle, turning it over slowly in your hands as you admired him. He still stood with his palms pressed against the wall and legs spread wide, the only difference being the plug now proudly on display.

He was your perfect little whore.

“Pick a number between one and ten, my love,” you instructed him, still raking your eyes over his perfect, toned body.

Loki was silent for only a heartbeat. “Seven, Mistress.”

Your grin was wicked. “Seven? How sadistic,” you taunted and placed the paddle flat against his ass. He cursed, loudly, and you watched his head shoot up between his shoulders as realisation dawned on him. “Seven strikes on each cheek and you’re to count them all.”

A deep, broken breath left him at the same time his fingers curled against the cream walls of the room. It was what he had been waiting for all evening - a spanking - and the excitement rolled off him in waves.

“Yes, Mistress.”

He barely had the chance to take a steadying breath before you landed the first blow. It was little more than a warm-up, a love tap, but Loki’s deep groan bounced sinfully off the walls of the room.

“One. Thank you, Mistress,” he said quickly, his hips giving another desperate roll against the air in search of friction.

“Good boy,” you praised him easily, repeating the action on the other cheek only a fraction harder. He was barely able to contain the choked cry of pleasure at the sting of pain.

“Two. Thank you, Mistress,” he continued counting, each brief word dripping with arousal.

For the third, you angled the paddle just so that he would feel the push of the plug and watched in heady delight when he tossed his head back at the impact, sending black curls trickling along his back. Along with the gentle ripple of his ass after each strike, the sight before you verged on pornographic.

“Fuck!” he said through gritted teeth. “Th…three. Thank you…Mistress.”

His deep, guttural moans and long, high-pitched whimpers became the melody of your evening, a favourite song that you could listen to again and again. With each strike of the paddle the sounds that fell from him grew more obscene, and when his string of curses slipped into Old Asgardian you knew he was lost beneath the ocean of pain and pleasure you were drowning him in.

It was exhilarating to watch - the way his muscles quivered beneath his pale skin and how his ass grew redder with each blow of the paddle. Coupled with knowing your Asgardian god was filled to the brim with a plug, it was enough to make you come almost by will alone.

After ten strikes you stopped, watching the deep rise and fall of his back with each heavy, lustful breath.

“Colour, my love?” you asked him.

His answer came barely a heartbeat after. “Gr…green…Mis…Mistress,” he panted, his perfect ass swaying slightly in the air.

The paddle dropped lightly to your side and you closed the small distance to lay a soothing hand on his tortured skin. He whimpered at your soft touch and you swore you felt his knees begin to buckle beneath him.

“You’ve taken your punishment so well, my love. I’m proud of you,” you cooed, running your hand lightly over his ass. You could still see the faint marks your teeth had left there earlier. “I think ten strikes is enough. You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

“Yes…yes, Mistress. I have,” Loki replied, his voice strangled and raspy and betraying his desperate need for release.

Without a word, you slid your hand back around his hips to grasp his aching cock. Your fingers had barely made contact with the flushed skin before he cried out - a soft mewl of need that begged you for more. You gave him three swift strokes, enough to keep the fire inside him alive without toppling over, and pulled your hand away again.

He whined pitifully at the loss, rocking his hips against the air in a vain attempt to regain any kind of friction.

“Shhhh. My good boy,” you soothed him, lowering your head to nuzzle your nose into his soft curls. “Go and lie on the bed, my love. Keep the plug in and your collar on.”

He straightened up slowly, almost gingerly, but still retained the same easy elegance even after the spanking he had just received. A graceful flick of his head sent black curls spilling over his broad shoulders, revealing the pink blush that stained his cheeks. When he turned to face you, his eyes were blown black with arousal.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, couldn’t believe that this man was yours and was offering himself to you to do with as you pleased.

Obediently, he crossed to the bed, no doubt feeling your lustful gaze locked on his every step. He was cautious as he climbed on the bed, the barest hint of a grimace crossing his face when he settled back and felt the pressure of the plug pushing against him. You watched him shift, watched him lift his hips in a futile attempt to lessen the pressure before ultimately giving him. Big, green eyes quickly settled on you, begging, pleading for you to put an end to his torment.

I’ve been so good. I’ve done everything you asked. Please.

The words were clear in his silent gaze. You waited.

And waited.

“Please, Mistress,” he finally broke, eyebrows slanting together while he rolled his hips against the sheets.

A smirk tugged at your lips at his plea. Slowly, and without breaking his gaze, you undressed piece by piece, and his hungry eyes watched every garment fall to the floor. He breathed in deeply when you stood bare before him, releasing it in a grunt of appreciation that had his cock twitch against his stomach.

“What should I do with you, hmm?” you asked sweetly, crawling onto the bed bedside him. You caught the quiet hitch of his breath as you settled in the sheets, and saw the brief second of his tongue darting between his lips. God, he was desperate.

“Should I take you in my mouth?” you continued, bending down to lick a firm stripe along the length of his throbbing cock. You were rewarded with Loki’s strangled cry of pleasure, forced out through gritted teeth as his hips snapped up in search of the wet warmth of your mouth. “Or maybe you’d prefer me to ride you?” you said, nibbling at the soft skin of his thighs.

His head fell back against the pillows with a soft thump while the white bedsheets were balled in his tight fists, his grip so strong that you could see his knuckles turn white beneath the skin. “Whatever…fuck…whatever you want, Mistress! Please!” he begged, a single tear of frustration making its way down his flushed cheek.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, shifting on the bed so you were straddling his thighs. “Plugged, spanked, and denied. Have you had enough?” You ran your hands along the chiseled lines of his stomach, feeling the muscles jump and ripple beneath your touch.

There was no feeling on earth comparable to having this man unravel beneath you.

“Y…yes!” Loki choked out with wild eyes, arching his back into your touch. Always he craved more of you. “Please! Please fuck me!”

You lowered your head to place a single kiss to his chest, the small action enough to have him keen beneath you. “Only because you asked so sweetly.”

The burning flames of your own arousal licked incessantly at your core, threatening to turn you to ash if you didn’t take your pleasure from him soon. He shivered beneath you as you sat up to line his cock with your entrance, pink lips parting in preparation for the feel of finally being sheathed inside you.

Teasingly, you held him there for a moment, intent on prolonging his torment as long as you could before easing onto him slowly - so painstakingly slowly that Loki grabbed your hips with firm hands to slam you down on him, releasing a tortured groan at the feel of your warm cunt finally wrapped around him.

You fought to mask just how good it felt to have him fill you, instead offering him a silent quirk of your eyebrow and ignoring how desperately you wanted to move, to claim him.

Fresh panic froze his face, but his fingers remained tightly around your hips. “Sorry! I’m…I’m sorry!” he babbled out.

God, you couldn’t do this to him anymore.

You reached quickly for one of his hands to bring it to your lips, pressing scattered gentle kisses along his knuckles. “You’ve been so good for me tonight I’m going to overlook that,” you said, feeling every inch of him relax instantaneously. At that moment he looked so beautiful you couldn’t resist bending down to kiss him, letting your lips linger teasingly against his.

“But you don’t come until I give you permission. Understood?”

He nodded frantically, green eyes lighting up with something close to elation that you were finally going to let him come. Strong fingers dug into your hips in a silent plea to move, and the last of your desire to torment him crumbled away like a house of sand. You wanted to drown him in pleasure, to make him feel so blindingly good he couldn’t remember his own name.

Quickly, you settled into an unbroken rhythm on top of him, rolling and rotating your hips to feel every perfect inch of him inside you. Loki’s face was contorted with pleasure beneath you and he met every roll of your hips with an erratic snap of his own, already teetering on the euphoric edge of his pleasure.

“Fuck…fuck, Loki, you feel so good!” you cried out, feeling the increased pressure from his hands and easily following his unspoken command to bounce.

You clenched around him as you did, hearing his sharp whine as he snapped his hips into you with such force that tiny stars began to dance on the edges of your vision. With each drag of his cock against your walls your pleasure crested like a wave on the shore. You were so close…so wondrously close.

“Mistress…please…please…I can’t…I need…” Loki’s anguished voice reached you as though he were miles away, each word strangled and desperate and betraying how dangerously close he was to tipping over the edge. “I need to come…please!” he choked out frantically.

“Not yet, my love,” you replied simply, chasing your own release with renewed urgency. You were determined that both of you would freefall together.

Loki sobbed beneath you, tears of frustration falling freely down his cheeks with how valiantly he was fighting to be good for you. It wouldn’t be much longer.

You were so close.

Just a few more thrusts of his beautiful cock.

A few more.

So close.

“Come for me. Now!” you ordered, the command sounding rough and harsh as you began to unravel around him.

Loki’s grip on your hips became punishing as he thrust wildly into you, his cries of pleasure at your combined explosion enough to bring down the compound walls. A babble of curses flew freely from his lips while he spilled inside you hot and heavy, and a glance at his face saw a man lost to incomparable bliss.

It was a sight you could get drunk on.

His climax kept going amidst your screams to the heavens, not stopping even when your thighs began to shudder around him. He was possessed by his pleasure, a willing victim of your perfect cunt clenching like a dream around him.

“Norns, darling! Milk me! Milk every.last.drop!” He thrust into you with each word, finally coming down from his high after what felt like hours.

He looked utterly spent - black curls tumbling around him in a tangled mess, pink cheeks glowing with exertion, eyes still glassy with pleasure.

Your perfect, pretty prince.

Tired as you were, you smirked while lifting yourself off him, feeling him drip down your still shaking thighs. “Oh, my love, I intend to. I promised you more than one orgasm tonight and I intend to keep that promise,” you teased him, shimmying down his spread legs until your mouth was mere inches from his still throbbing cock.

He groaned sinfully when you wrapped your lips around him, your own arousal still coating him as you took him in your mouth. You ensured to run your tongue firmly along every ridge and vein, coaxing his hips upward in search of more.

“By the gods,” he panted, a hand threading loosely through your hair. “You’ll be the end of me, darling.”

You hummed appreciatively around his cock, earning a soft keen from your god.

Sleep could wait.

Tags:

@cheekyscamp @coldnique @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @the-lady-amphitrite @cake-writes @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @give-me-a-moose @springdandelixn @maple-seed @loopsisloops @kinky-faerie @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @wintermischief @icytrickster17 @mischiefs-dream @littlespaceyelf

#mmmmm delish #loki x reader #fic rec #back on my loki shit methinks

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bleughs · 11 months

Text

closer and closer and closer

boba fett/reader

~3k words explicit, 18+ only! toys, masturbation, vouyerism, fingering ao3 link a/n: [john wick voice] people keep asking if I'm back and I haven't really had an answer. but now, yeah, I'm thinkin' I'm back! …idk how fics on tumblr work anymore, but i'm plopping this here! womp womp, give it a like/reblog/whatever happens now!

Dust falls across the vast Dune Sea, the sinking suns lassoing the heat of the day with it as it sinks below the far off horizon. The lamps are low around the palace, only enough electricity to flicker across the ancient stone walls. It’s the middle of the night — near morning, really, and the wind finds its way through any crack and crevice in the stone, the sound of the weaving breeze eerily similar to whispers.

The night is dark and all but quiet, except —

Except for a white-blue light illuminating your face, and a soft, constant bzzz muffled by the sheets over your body.

Two women, a human and a Twi’lek, moan into each other's mouths as they grind against one another. The Twi’, gorgeous cerulean skin sloping over full thighs, light lines of stretch marks zig-zagging across her hips, gently thrusts into her partner, a big, fat, fake cock swallowed by the human woman’s sloppy, wet cunt.

Quiet sounds emanate from your holopad, volume so low you can hardly hear but you do hear enough, aching groans from the receiver as the Twi’lek pushes into her deep, harder. Your own cunt throbs around nothing but the vibrating wand firmly on your clit makes your whole body shiver. Your eyes dance across your screen, from where the women are connected to the Twi’s long jeweled lekku to the human’s breasts as they bounce with each thrust. Your toes are already curling.

The holopad is propped up against a pillow on your lap, not the most ergonomic position but good enough to get the job done. Despite the low volume, the sounds of the video still echo quietly in the grand room, and the sheets below and atop you — his sheets — are damp with your sweat. It’s been a long day and you’d hardly seen him, and you’re not desperate but you are needy and horny and unable to sleep from the restless coil in your gut and the wet ache between your legs. So you took matters into your own hands.

You’re not really sure where he is. But his bed was empty, and your wand was fully charged, and maybe there’s something about slipping in his bedroom and getting yourself off in his bed with his soft sheets wrapped around your legs.

Not that you think he’d mind. Your relationship is not one built upon control and domination... Well, sometimes it is, but only when the mood is right and he asks you to tell him how to eat it. You know he gets himself off privately, a small fact he likes to murmur against the shell of your ear as he enters you again and again and again, you sprawled beneath him and thinking about nothing but the way he pleases you so well, how you’d never leave this place if you could.

He tells you he often thinks of you when he touches himself, tugging the velvety skin of his thick shaft until he spills into his big hand. The thought alone was enough to make your body seize with ecstasy.

You think of him, too, often, in times like these. It’s hard not to when he gets you there so thoroughly, with enthusiasm. But sometimes you like to keep things fresh. You like to explore other possibilities. Not necessarily secret fantasies, but potential pleasures.

The Twi’lek says something about “taking it so well” and you utter an involuntary fuck at her soft, sultry tone. You readjust the want on your clit and the vibrations make you jolt and you have to turn down the intensity before you get overwhelmed. The human woman in your video nearly mimics you, lets out a pitiful whine and makes a move to scoot up the bed and away from the intensity of heat lover’s touch. But the Twi’ doesn’t let her. Blue fingers grip the soft hips of her partner and pull her close, thumb caressing the human’s skin with a particular familiarity that can only come with trust and affection. The dark leather of the strap cuts across the Twi’s hips, cups her ass, and she leans down over her lover and whispers something you can’t hear, but the woman below her moans and grabs her own breasts, kneads them, and one hand slips between their bodies down to her mound.

You push the wand harder onto your clit and stutter out a breath. A tingle starts in your toes and you know you’re close. Your gaze focuses on the receiving woman, on her pinched features and her face glistening with sweat. Is this what you look like when the pleasure becomes too much? Her head falls back against the pillow and the faintest of smiles graces her lips. Do you have such a natural, beautiful look of euphoria when you — when he — when maybe someone else…

You feel the tingle in your calves now, up your thighs, a spring wound too tightened nearly ready to pop. The vibrations from the wand seem to penetrate into your bones. “Please,” you say into the empty air. “Pleasepleaseplease.” The Twi’lek’s hips hit flush with her lover’s and they both moan, the Twi’ staring into her partner’s face with twitching lips and intense, fiery eyes.

Is this what you’d look like fucking someone?

Your cunt throbs at the thought.

A quiet wssk, hardly loud enough to hear. You’re coiled up too tight to notice anything else but the women fucking on the screen in front of you and your own pulsing core ready to release at any second. The wand is heavy in your hand and you eke out a strained, pitiful voice. “Please, gods, please,” you say. “I’m so close, please.”

A heavy footfall from across the room. “Finish, then.”

The voice — his voice — doesn’t quite make you jump, but you gasp, your hips jolt, and you loll your head to the side.

There he is, leaning against the doorway all too casual, helmet off so you can see the pleased smirk that graces his face. He’s got his armor on, deep green and hints of yellow and cloaked in shadows, nearly a silhouette if not for the faint golden light from the lamps that halo around him.

You bite your lip. “Boba, I — “

“Finish,” he says again, a deep grumble from his throat. He nods toward the quiet buzzing between your legs. “Don’t let me interrupt. Please.” If you were not so distracted, you might see the smile lines at the corner of his lips.

You take a beat to think about the situation in which you now find yourself. You lower the wand slowly back to your aching clit and let out a stuttering breath. This is not the first time Boba has watched you please yourself. It’s just that it’s often a mutual act with mutual pleasure, sometimes on opposites of the room or closer, on either ends of the bed, him standing at the foot and you splayed out on these very sheets. The images of his hand wrapped around his weeping, girth cock invades your mind only for a moment, combatting the quiet, erotic sounds of the video, still playing. You search Boba’s face for something, you’re not really sure, and all you really find are his soft, older features you’re so familiar with, and a glint of hunger in his dark eyes.

You gaze at him for a second longer, and then roll your head back over the pillow to focus on your video, eyes adjusting to the unnatural white-blue light of the screen. That spring is still coiled tight inside you, and the vibrating wand, the erotic movements of the women on your pad, the presence of Boba mere feet away, watching you — the wave is creating, you can feel it from your flexed toes to your tight throat.

The Twi’lek reaches down to replace her partner’s fingers on her clit, yellow nail lacquer standing stark against both their skins, and she circles the bud with skill. She kisses the woman below her, a little sloppy, and says against her lips, “Lemme feel this pretty pussy pulse, baby.” Her lover whines, face twisting in pleasure. The Twi’, thrusting and notching her hips against her lover, smirks. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

You obey her command.

A groan, lodged somewhere between your ribs, rips itself free and claws up your throat. That spring pops with such force that your hips lift fully off the bed, chasing the pleasure coursing through your veins and your wand pushes into your clit and the vibrations reverberate throughout your body. The feeling ripples from your very core as you come and keep coming, writhing on the bed beneath the thin sheets. You keep the wand exactly where it is even though it’s nearing too much. It’s everything. You’re flying and falling and forgetting how to breathe.

Not every orgasm is like this. But when you can work yourself up to these tidal waves, you stay beneath the water as long as you can.

When the pleasure threatens to envelop you whole, you lift the wand off your clit and fall back onto the bed, leg twitching with aftershocks. The holopad falls to the side, artificial light illuminating the wrinkled sheets.

Your eyes fall closed with fatigue and your ears ring. You still hear the deep hum from across the room, and it makes you shiver.

Boba’s heavy footfalls make their way to the side of the bed and though you can’t see him, you feel him beside you. “I never get tired of seeing that, you know.” You let out something akin to a laugh, but it’s lazy and breathy. A tender hand sweeps hair from your sweaty forehead, and you lean into his touch. He hums again. “You are stunning like this.”

The smallest smile lifts your lips. “And you’re a romantic all of a sudden.”

Boba chuckles. “I allow myself moments.” A pause. The whistling wind. “Mind if I take a look at what you were watching?”

You reach blindly across the bed, feeling for the holopad until you feel the metal edge, and hand it to him without looking. His callused fingers unwrap yours from the device.

It’s silent for a beat more, and then, “Huh.” You crack an eye open, peer up at him as he looms over you. He swipes across the screen, an eyebrow raised.

“What,” you ask.

“Nothing, I just — I didn’t realize you were interested in this…genre.” He looks at you over the top of the pad.

“Well,” you start, searching for some sort of explanation to give. You find the simplest one, and it’s the truth. “I am.”

He sets the pad aside, and smirks again. “Perhaps we’ll have to compare notes soon.”

You smile, languid and easy. The hand on your forehead moves to caress your cheek, and then cup your jaw. You relish the sensation of rough calluses of his hands against your skin, closing your eyes again and letting him feel you. He reaches further still, until he thumbs the swell of your breast, the rest of your body hidden beneath the sheets. You arch up into his touch.

“How are you feeling,” he asks, quiet.

“Mmm. Good.”

The sheets start to slip down your body, first exposing your breasts, cool night air perking your nipples. Boba makes short time of exploring this newly revealed skin. A big hand cups your breast, thumb passing over your nipple, kneads your pliant flesh. This is euphoric — you in his grasp, letting your inhibitions fall by the wayside as he palms you, exalting your body in his particular kind of worship. He sweeps his knuckles over your other nipple and you gasp, quiet, body still buzzing from your recent high.

“Are you tired?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No, I — “ Your words stall as his hand drifts lower, across the soft flesh of your stomach. “I’m not, I mean — I’m not too tired.” Though your limbs are heavy, there’s a lightness to you. And you’re only getting lighter as Boba’s touch walks further down your body.

The mattress sinks next to you as he sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s past midnight,” he says, and his tone is even, calm, like his ghosting touches aren’t starting to work you up again. “You’ll be tired in the morning if you don’t get some sleep soon.” His wandering fingers reach the edge of your coarse curls, and the gentle ministrations are not enough and you want to grab his hand and put it right where you want it because the teasing is almost as bad as overstimulation, two sides of the same credit.

Instead of answering him with a command to stop messing around, a whine leaves your parted lips and your hips lift off the bed into his touch. The low rumble of a chuckle reverberates from him, and with his other hand he pushes your hips back down. “If you’re not tired, maybe I should lull you to sleep. How does that —“

Without coherent thought and working more on instinct, you reach down to grab his wrist, and you feel the tendons beneath his skin twitch as his fingers flex. “Stop stalling,” you slur out, and push his hand through your curls and to the wet, warm apex of your parted thighs. His fingers finally reach your lower lips, and your toes curl.

He does laugh this time, a warm sound that slips over you like how his fingers now slip between your labia, unhurried and lazy. “Yes, ma’am.”

Thick digits part you, and you widen your legs to give him more access. Wet, lewd noises fill the room now, your slick coating his fingers as he moves through your lips, taking his time. You twitch, still so sensitive, and let your mind clear of everything save for the pleasure Boba is giving you. He makes small sounds, low hums and groans as he works your cunt. He has yet to breach you, but it doesn’t matter because his fingers find your clit, swollen and responsive, and you suck in a breath when he circles it slowly. The hand not at your cunt roams north to massage your breast, easy kneading and flicks against your nipples. “You seem to have made a mess of my bed,” he grumbles, no doubt meaning the sticky wet spot you’re lying in.

You huff out an excuse. “It happens.”

“That it does.” He leans down toward you, and you feel his breath ghost over your face. “Not to worry, I’ll clean it up.”

And he kisses you then, with leisure and ease, lips moving against your own, tongue licking against them, and you bring a hand up to cup his jaw and pull him closer. You breathe him in, the musk and smoke and blaster fire of him, leather and steel and sex. He moans into your mouth and then his fingers enter you, finally, and you groan against his tongue and his swallows up the sound like he’s starving for it. Thick digits work you open, push up against your walls to find that coveted spot inside you, and find it he does because he’s done this before, dozens of times in the relatively brief duration of your relationship because you two just can’t get enough of each other. Boba is gruff and brusque and enigmatic and terse, but he’s also gentle and kind and profound and a giving lover, and he doesn’t ask you where you’re going or when you’ll get back but he always waits up for you anyway. His laugh may be rare but it fills you with the warmth of the twin suns, and his whispers against your skin tattoo a mark you’ll never forget, even if whatever this is may be fleeting, or maybe it’ll be forever. His eyes are dark and penetrating and he knows more than he lets on and you like that about him, that he keeps his cards close to his chest until he’s ready to reveal his hand. And when his hand is inside you, like now, you think this, this is what you’ve been starving for. To watch your pleasure flow into him as he gets you off, as he gives you a part of himself and you him, you sometimes think this is all you really need. You both give and take and give and though he can shake down kingpins and warlords, he takes you with gentle hands and soft, sultry words.

You gasp, throb against his three thick fingers inside you. “I’m close,” you rush out against his jaw, his skin warm and rough with scars.

He breathes you in. “Then come for me.”

You do. Of course you do.

#boba fett #boba fett/reader #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #sw fic #boba fett x reader #idk what tf else to put i feel like a newborn even tho i been doing this shit for years pffftttt #hi guys :) if anyone finds me here :))))#i'm going to therapy now! i am Better :)

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