#hot as f!ck

[starliteonearth]

I'm seeing a lot of discourse on the Daemyra divorce scene and some are arguing that Rhaenyra was terrified and she flinched when Daemon raised his hand, but I've rewatched the scene over and over, for research purposes, and Rhaenyra wasn't petrified, she was PISSED (and very turned on considering her eyes literally drop to his lips right after but some of y'all are blind I guess). And she didn't flinch, she SNARLED. It was very much "try me bitch, i'm not playing with you today", which is why Daemon pulls back his hand so quickly. Mans had to consider his next move very carefully lol

Like come onnnnnn now

[rafasbiscuits]

two bros chilling on a mountain, five feet apart, cause they're not gay

[lokisgoodgirl]

Final Bids: Love Wins [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (20) A loved-up Loki has a surprise or two for you in his chambers. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Hostile Fluff. Language. Biker! Loki 'fit cameo. (w/c 3.8k)

You and Loki hadn't stop kissing from the moment the elevator closed to the moment it slid open on the sixty-fifth floor. You had run out the main doors of the event suite with the stares of bemused looking spectators following you, the crowd parting. There was no looking back as Loki’s fingers grasped your own, knitted tightly.

He was still bare-chested, the button of his trousers still undone. Hair was wild, cheeks hot, smiles wide as cat-calls and ringing shouts of ‘finally’ followed far beyond the lavish foyer.

Your searching hands clawed at his naked back as he pressed you against the glass wall of the lift. Floor disappeared below, winding higher as you moaned into his open mouth.

“Come on…” he muttered, eyes flashing with mischief before yanking you out the open elevator doors and around the corner towards his rooms. His sanctuary. He strode ahead, making you teeter on your heels as you tried in vain to keep up. With an impatient growl, he spun - lifting you effortlessly around his hips. You gasped, a giggle escaping as his features retained their set determination. “You were taking too long. As usual. ” he growled, taking several more strides before slamming your back against his front door.

Loki’s hand at your back blanketed the impact as his lips ravenously enveloped your own. The god’s tongue swept inside your mouth, a mewl sneaking from your throat as you turned to messy putty beneath his possessive wiles. Somewhere, there was a low beep. The door fell open. Loki stumbled inside, holding you steady with one strong arm. His tongue never left your mouth as you groaned against him, his furiously hard cock pressing eagerly against your inner thigh. Reluctantly, he lowered you the floor, spinning you gently to face the room beyond the entryway. You gaped, taking in the lavish dark furnishings you had only imagined as you touched yourself beneath your bedsheets in the dead of night. Thick velvet curtains hung closed against the windows; green, of course. The scent of rich mahogany filled the air, shy curls of smoke wafting from dozens of candles set on the bookshelves which lined the living room. A fireplace that you were entirely sure wasn't to code suddenly roared to life in the corner. To your right, you could just see a sliver of a majestic bed-frame through the crack of a door. Looking back to the room at hand, you suddenly realised you had company. Of sorts. Nine mannequins were placed in a semi-circle at the far corner of the room, giving them the look of some sort of macabre council. Loki’s warm breath fanned your ear as he stooped to speak, noting your interest. “Do they bring back fond memories, darling?” he purred, making you shiver. The wetsuit, the biker ensemble, the kilt, the fencing pants, the captain’s uniform, the slutty caftan, the Tudor king, the wolf fur, the holy vestments – they were all here. “I thought you would appreciate a reminder of our journey together on this auspicious occasion.” he whispered slowly, measuring your reaction. You giggled, throwing a glance over your shoulder before moving towards them to investigate. “What would you have done with these if I’d not...you know, done what I did downstairs?” “Burn them, obviously.” “Obviously.” you replied dryly, pinching the edges of the wetsuit and running your fingers down thoughtfully. It feels like so long ago. “Although I was quietly confident that my masterplan would yield fruit.” he smirked, perching elegantly on the armrest of hi sofa. “Master-plan...” you scoffed derisively, gravitas quashed by the unshakeable grin stretched across your face. “Keep telling yourself that, Laufeyson.” Minutes passed as you inspected each piece while Loki watched in silence, a gentle smile on his lips.

“I thought I would allow you a choice of attire for us to consummate our truce.” he said, slowly rising and circling behind as you paused in front of the ravaged kilt hanging on its holder. "Truce? How romantic." you murmured sarcastically, hearing the tap of his dress shoes against the mahogany floor. The mannequins were an exact replica of Loki’s frame, you realised, running your hand down the rough woollen sash. You shivered, remembered the sight of his war-stained features surfacing between your spread thighs on the wet battlements. Loki’s hips pressed against your ass, his hard stomach moulding to the shape of your spine as he loomed behind you. “Can’t you see which one I’d choose, the whole mindreading-whatever-it-is?” you said absent-mindedly, snapping a long strap of the fencing pants for effect. Loki chuckled. “Oh, that." Loki drawled. "With some difficulty, I fashioned an enchantment so that I cannot see too deeply. I have cut myself off, as it were. It is only an aura of your mood that I have access to – and nothing to be done about that. Unless your love for me wanes, of course.” You turned, unable to disguise your shock. “What?! Since when?” Loki's features twisted in an apologetic grimace. “At the faire...I began to delve too deeply. I knew that you did not approve, I felt...guilty." He paused, surprised at his own revelation. "Was I wrong?” he added, brows slanted. “No I just…” you started sheepishly, biting your lip. Your eyes widened. “But some of the things you said in Rome, the little comments, the-” “About you wanting me, you mean?” Loki scoffed gently. He shook his head. “Any fool could see that, darling. My brother, for one.” You turned away, closing you eyes as you tried to process how unbearably in love with him you were. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest. He really is full of surprises. “You could have told me.” you said with a feigned air of annoyance, fingering the intricate embroidery of the sheer caftan. “And lose my advantage in our little tirades? I think not, Agent.” Loki purred, eyes burning with mischief. “Besides, I do not need magical abilities to read you.” You could feel his soundless approach, the warmth of his bare chest inches from your back. “Now choose, please.” he whispered, a wandering hand slipping around your waist. Your palm slid up his cheekbone from behind, pressing him against the crook of your neck. “I don’t need a costume, Loki” you whispered, turning. “I just need you.” The god chuckled into your hair. “Are you sure they didn’t help pave the way to your heart? I thought it would be...romantic.” You rolled your eyes. “Well they didn’t hurt.” You ran your eyes down the white captain’s uniform pressed neatly against its mannequin. “But really…” you said, sliding your palm over Loki’s shoulders. “I just want you, Loki. All of you.” The god’s brow furrowed, a bob in his throat as his mind fought to catch up. “I see.” he managed to say, catching on his tongue. There was a pause, as Loki’s stare searched yours. “Is it really so hard to believe?” you said, cupping his jaw. “That I love you?” Loki nodded once, his gaze lowered, lashes spread in a perfect fan against his skin.

“Why?” you whispered, knowing the answer. But it seemed important that he say it. He swallowed.

“You must understand I have never been most people’s favourite person. In this realm or any other. ” he said bitterly, avoiding your eyes as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Anyone’s favourite person, in truth. To be loved. It is rather a strange concept to me.” His eyeline staggered upwards, reluctantly meeting your gaze. “But I am trying.” “I know. I’m sorry about all the red stuff – the dress was an accident but the bra and the g-string I didn’t know-” Loki’s finger pressed to your lips. “Do not apologise.” he murmured. “Just promise me that you shall not lie with him when you tire of me.” You couldn’t help the gasp of laughter that erupted against his finger. “Tire of you?” you choked. “I don’t think that’s likely.” Loki raised an eyebrow, making your features straighten. “But I promise, I will not…” you wrinkled your nose, “...lie with Thor.” The god nodded regally, accepting your pledge. The tips of his cheekbones had flushed palest pink. “I love you.” you said softly, capturing his fingers as they brushed your collarbone. “I love you.” he replied with a shy smile. His voice was rich and warm, the tenor sinking into your soul like salve. “But it is more than that…” he added mysteriously, his tone deepening. You felt the familiar zing of arousal between your thighs, the eroticism of his power building in earnest. “I have burned for you, every cell of my being yearning uncontrollably since the moment you first cut me with that sharp tongue.” he murmured, sweeping hair from your neck. “It is a need, an obsession. And the obsession of a god is not easily swayed. I hope you are prepared for that.” His parted lips danced across your shoulder, as your hands slid beneath his armpits and between the muscled blades. “I could not bear to think that you would never be mine-” he growled, “not after all the times before, and never like this...never as-” “-Real.” you gasped, as he placed a gentle bite on the curve of your neck, a deep moan filling the space. “Real.” he echoed quietly, before placing a soothing kiss on the mark he had left. “I could not bear it.” His eyes met with yours, glassy with emotion. “I thought...that the only way to harvest the passion I desperately craved from you was-” “-by being an asshole?” you postured, raising your brows. Loki smiled sheepishly. “You gave as good as you got, darling.” he murmured, his hand beginning to toy with the zip of your dress. “Better, some might say.” you gasped, feeling the tug of your seams coming loose. “In your dreams, Agent.” Loki whispered, as your dress pooled around your ankles. “And besides…” he quipped, walking you backwards through the living room towards the king bed next door. “One cannot accuse us of being predictable.” “Perish the thought.” you said, as the back of your knees hit the firm mattress. Loki lowered his chin to his chest, the fire in his eyes that burned right before he fucked you smouldering with new intensity. “My love…” he hummed, possessively sliding his hands over your ass and squeezing. “My love.” you responded with a gasping groan, the curve of your lips cresting each vowel like a breaking wave. “Choose one.” he growled, a ragged moan vibrating in his chest as he slipped his hand inside your panties. “I must insist. For old times sake.”

Your eyes flickered to the row of mannequins just visible outside the door. “The b-biker…” you stammered, as Loki’s digits began to play lazily against your soaking slit. “Mmm” he hummed, knowingly. “I’m sure the garments for that particular ensemble isn’t the only thing you desire from it, my love?” My love. You would never tire of those words from his lips. You could feel heat rising in your cheeks as Loki’s suit trousers began to turn to scuffed black denim beneath your touch. The fingers digging into his back suddenly had a thin layer of fabric between his flesh and yours; the scent of old oil wafting from the cotton. Cool, heavy metal swung against your chest as he shoved you playfully back onto the bed, watching as a familiar vintage leather jacket unfurled over his torso. The god chuckled, seeing your legs widen as you drew your feet onto the mattress; sinking into the thick crispness of his duvet. He ran a hand through his hair, a trail of seidr rendering it wild. Your breath skipped as you saw the outline of the deep scar through his eyebrow form, ink flourishing on both sets of his knuckles. C.H.A.O.S. You shuddered, ass clenching. The crossed daggers flourished in all their glory over his heart, the edges faded as old tattoos do. Loki’s fingers toyed teasingly with the buckle of the studded belt, hanging sluttishly around his hips. “Do you want me to be a bad boy, Agent?” he growled, untamed hair falling in waves against his sharp cheekbones. “You’re always a bad boy.” you purred, making Loki wink before he cleared his throat. “Well, I better not disappoint then.” he postured, sinking into character as he lowered himself on top of you. The leather creaked against his biceps as he braced, the stretch making you clench as he descended on your mouth in a mess of teeth and tongue. You thrust upwards, the thin fabric of your wet gusset colliding with his belt buckle. Loki chuckled, scooping you upwards. He knelt on the bed, ass resting on his worn combat boots; shifting so only one of his denim-clad thighs sat between your spread legs. “Use me.” he rumbled, lowering his chin as he began to rock your hips back and forth. Friction made delicate skin sizzle as he set your pussy alight, every whimper met with enthusiastic sighs of pleasure and praise. “That’s it, darling…” he groaned as you grasped at his hard cock beneath the tight denim. Searching.

He was a mess of adulation, words unsaid for too long spilling from his lips with every flame of climax blossoming in your belly. “I’m for your pleasure, now.” he gasped, gyrating his hips as you rocked against his thigh. “Always...take it. Take i-it, my love. It’s y-yours. I’m..f-fuck, I’m yours.” Your nails dug into the leather covering his shoulders, marking the soft material as you came undone against him. “Loki...y-yes..uhhh” you moaned into his open mouth as he gazed up at you, rough ebony curls thrown back. One of your hands fell to his chest, catching on the loop of the pendant hanging against his heart. The slicing angle of Loki’s jaw was poised, lips parted. His eyes were wide, brow creased as you came with a grateful cry of his name. He continued to guide your hips back and forth while your grip tightened and then relaxed. You burrowed your face in the curve of his neck, noting the musk of Croatian alcohol and smoky bars that still clung there. “I do so love watching you cum…” he murmured shyly, as you began to pull wantonly at his belt buckle. “Well I love watching you cum” you said, pressing your lips together in a coy smile. “So I guess that works out, doesn’t it?” Loki’s hand ran through your hair, tugging your head back before he placed a messy suck to the pulse point. “Mine.” he growled breathily, as your fingers raced to undo his belt. “Leave it…” he muttered, making your hands fly to his leather jacket, forcing it roughly over his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, the low thump of his combat boots hitting the floorboards making your whole body shiver. He shuffled backwards, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Are you ready, love?” he muttered seductively. You nodded, your feral desire barely contained as you bounced on your knees. Instinctively your fingers rubbed his violently hard cock through the rough denim, feeling for metal. The god hissed as your fingers caught against the tip. "Oh, it's there." Loki purred knowingly, whipping the belt from its holster and slowly rolling down the zip. You licked your lips, seeing the majesty of his pierced cock bob into view. Wordlessly you leant forwards, sucking the moist head of his manhood against your tongue with a calculated swirl. You tugged the silver barbell, flicking. Loki whimpered, steadying himself against the bedpost. “F-fuckk, darling…” he gasped quietly. “I shall n-never be prepared for that.”

The metal balls of his piecing were cool against the heat of your mouth, rolling them against your searching tongue as he groaned above you. A metallic taste rose against the warmth of his sweetness, the god's musk swirling intoxicatingly against the sharp tang of steel. Saliva leaked out the sides of the join, letting it coat his cock as you slid back and forth, sucking gently. Your lips tightened, the stroke of your hand against his thick, slippery shaft making his hips jolt. “Won’t l-last l-long…gods-” he rasped, gently winding the hand not steadying him into your hair.

Your own whoreish moans burned deep in your eardrums, mouth stuffed with his girth as you felt him begin to tremble. “D-don’t stop…” he panted, as you increased your pace. “Do you w-want me to cum in your...fuckkk-your mouth, p-precious one?” Loki stammered with difficulty, his breath catching as his hips began to tremble. You groaned enthusiastically, vibrations making his balls tighten. You heard a low crack of wood, Loki’s grip making the wooden bedpost split beneath it. A thundering moan ripped from above, hot cum flooding your tongue; dripping down your throat as you swallowed against the tip of his thick cock.

You released him with a messy pop, tugging once more at the piercing while gazing up at the dishevelled god with pure love. His bliss-drunk eyes lazily searched your face, hovering on the slick of his delicious cum coating your lips. He licked his own. “We can do the rest later, don’t worry.” you cooed, sitting up on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Loki chuckled, delicate skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. “Ah! About that-” he smouldered, before falling forwards and pinning you beneath him on the bed. “Gods have a very short refractory period. I’m delighted to inform you that we can fuck endlessly, if that is your desire.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched your jaw drop.

“You mean all this time we could have done it twice?” “More than twice, darling.” he jibed, feigning offence. “But to be frank, typically the mood had been ruined by one of your mid-coital insults by that point.” “My insults?!” you huffed, feeling his cock growing hard again against your thigh. Loki kissed you deeply, making your back arch as you felt the tingle of his seidr evaporate the rest of his biker clothes. He slid a finger through your folds, moaning appreciatively. “Wet, warm...perfect.” he muttered, curls grazing against your cheeks. You felt the metal balls of his piercing on the wide tip nudge against your entrance, the coolness tingling against your heat. Twin moans filled the air as he squeezed himself past the tight opening, Loki’s eyes rolling back before they fluttered closed. He bottomed out with a low pant of pleasure, a final thrust of his hips making the metal spheres tug against your deepest walls. The metal stud fastened to Loki’s pubic mound pulled gently against your clit, every slow roll of his hips making you rock into him. “Loki...f-fuck, I’d f-forgotten-oh god..oh g-god.” you panted, as his knees widened on the bed. The base of his flat stomach was pressed to your own, the thick veins running along his biceps bulging as he thrust into you in mind-altering waves. “Let yourself go, my love...there is no limit anymore. Not with us.” he praised, as your fingertips sank into the taut muscle of his ass. Effortlessly, Loki raised himself from his forearms; angling his hips so only the tip of his cock remained inside your wet cunt. “Loki...please” you begged, squirming beneath him. He smirked, beginning to make small thrusts against your g-spot. Your head slid back against the pillow, back arching. “Fuck-Loki...y-yess oh-god.” It caressed the swollen spot inside you, tingling with the urge to burst while the piercing rubbed on either side. It was heaven. “Cum for me, lov-ve.” he murmured, his voice breaking on the final syllable. Your hands fell back against the pillows, fingers curling around the antique brass railings of his bed-frame. Loki growled through shallow pants, his large palms cupping the joint of your hips as he guided you back and forth on his mighty cock. “C-come in me, Loki…” you whined, chin pointed to the ceiling as every muscle in your body screamed for release. "Own me, you fucking own me."

You were a writhing mess of pure sex, every swing of his hair; every harsh exhale of air from his throat a primal cacophony of lust and love. Both of your moans grew louder, the slap of his balls against your skin driving you over the edge as he unravelled. There was a sudden rush, a burning thrill of flooding climax as Loki’s shallow pants of praise blossomed to a thundering roar. The groan of his name from your throat was primal; threatening to shake his books from their shelves.

The god's breaths slowed, melting against you in a wet kiss before rolling to the side. His head hit the pillow with a muted thump. “Have I ever told you, that you're the best fuck I’ve ever had?” he panted. “No, I don’t think you mentioned it.” you quipped, resting your chin on his heaving chest. “That would be too complimentary, you were too busy trying to make my life hell.” Loki rolled his eyes with a smirk, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “As I said on our first tryst, darling...indifference is the true insult.” He squeezed you tighter, before the amused smile faded. “There is one more past outfit I must show you.” he said tentatively, before frowning. “Return to you, actually.”

You sat up, propped on your elbows. “Oh?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Although I have made one notable alteration.” he added, raising a hand and waving it gracefully in the air. A bright shimmer appeared at the foot of the bed, rolling downwards to reveal silken fabric fluttering suspended in the air. “Oh my god…” you whispered, eyes wide. The red dress that Loki had ripped with his hands and teeth from your body while he fucked you to oblivion in a jealous rage the night of the shareholder’s party swayed in front of you. Loki flicked his fingers, making it dance in the air.

It was immaculate, even by his standards of repair. Except now, it was a rich emerald green. “Loki-” you started, feeling a lump in your throat. Gently, his fingers tipped your chin to face him. “You have made me a better man, Agent.” he said slowly, enunciating every word. “Are you sure about that? I’m not sure Clint would agree. Or Amanda, actually.” you smirked, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And enough with the ‘Agent’, you know how much it annoys me.” Loki laughed softly, sighing as he stretched his naked legs across the sheets. “Ah, so you heard about Barton.”

You let your eyes wander up his endless limbs, admiring the curve and dip of each perfectly carved muscle. “He put in a complaint with Tony.” you said, making Loki nodded sagely, lips pursed. The fact that Tony had, of course, told everyone, did not need to be stated to be understood. There was a pause. "And by the way, where is Thor getting a spare two million from to pay for you?" Loki smirked, rolling towards you with a fist propped innocently beneath his temple. "He's been putting off offers for a raunchy photoshoot with a well-known underwear brand for years, darling. I wouldn't worry." "Sorry, what was that you were saying about being a better man?" you goaded, holding back a laugh. “Well, our misplaced animosity may not have been the smoothest path to encouraging a reformation of my admittedly devilish character-” Loki said thoughtfully, nestling his nose against the tip of your cheekbone. “-but your love might.” You swung a leg over his hips, enjoying the exaggerated oof he released as you settled your core to his stomach. Your palm cupped his face, smoothing the silk of his jaw with your thumb. Loki tilted his head, raven curls a mess of tangles against the white pillowcase. “You’ll still always manage to irritate me, you know.” you said, as a smile played at Loki’s lips. "Just because I love you, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you." In a flash, Loki had you on your back, giggling beneath him as the warm comfort of his solid frame pressed to yours. “Likewise, my love-' he sighed happily against your sex mussed hair. He placed a firm kiss on your temple, thumb pushing back strands of damp hair from your forehead. “-And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A/N - Thank you SO SO MUCH for coming with me on this journey. What started with a humble slutty wetsuit has blossomed into our beloved arsey, impossible Loki and stubborn Agent and I hope you're as happy with this ending as I am :) There will be a lil Epilogue (coming soon) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @123forgottherest @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @goddessofwonderland @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman

[hikarielizabethbloom]

Ok, I'm gonna talk briefly about the kiss of discord. 😂

I've read about the kiss before watching the ep, so from some of the reactions I thought it was going to be a passionate kiss at the end of ep with some 'ohhh' moments from both of them.

Imagine my surprise when the kiss happened, anticlimacticly (is this even a word?), in the beginning of ep, it lasted 2 secs, there was no passion, and was followed by Galadriel's wtaf face. And it meant so little that the characters went on with their life so easily that I forgot about it in the next scene.

Now, the controversial opinion 😂. I liked it. Yes, they could have done it without it but who cares. It was intimate, it was affectionate. It was clearly a kiss between two people who love each other deeply. I didn't feel anything romantic and the interviews with both Morfydd and Robert confirmed it. So...

Edit: the writers are really lucky and doomed because Morfyyd has so much chemistry with everyone on screen that she could've kissed anyone and I would be like 'ok, yeah. That kind of make sense' 🤷‍♀️

[theloveinc]

Shinsou "I dont know why she's into me either" Hitoshi

ALWAYS on his "am shy and humble or actually just cocky" shit because sometimes this means he's holding your palms in his hands and getting all watery-eyed because he thinks you're WAY too good for him ... and other times it means cheers-ing someone when they get snotty about how you're out of his league.

They're trying to piss him off, meanwhile he's just raising his glass an tipping a shot back, kinda smirking, all: "cheers, I'll drink to that!" (then going home to make sure you aren't about to leave him--as if he doesn't have ROCK HARD ABS he wants you grinding against every night. why would you ever give that up????? adjflakdhj)

Not to mention all the times Denki asks him how he managed to score you and Shinso genuinely goes blank and has to take 20 minutes to ponder it too:

[masked-artist-xp]

*proceeds to simp*

Avarice(human ver.) belongs to @a-v-j

[hombresexual2]

😋

[kohimi]

Please the sentence " It makes me wanna sneeze" ??!?

EXCUSE YOU, IT MAKE YOU "WANNA" ??!

Like, before you didn't want anything BUT NOW that there's this thing in your cutie little nose, IT MAKE YOU WANT TO SNEEZE ? FROM THE VERB "WANT" YOU WANT IT !?

I'm sorry but this is incredibly HOT.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Crossed Swords [Avenger! Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (9) You overhear something unwelcome. Mischief ensues. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. "Friends" w/ benefits. Graphic descriptions of Loki in fencing pants. Language. Mild violence. (w/c 4.2k)

You didn’t know what had possessed you to knock on Loki’s door. It had been over a week since Scotland, and visions of that night had consumed your mind like a virus. It was all you could think about, and you needed to see him. Alone. You squeezed the clan pin from his tartan sash that had somehow ended up in your possession into a fist as the other rapped the wood three times. The sharp edges stung into the soft base of your palm as you heard footsteps approaching. I’m here to return it before the tactics meeting. I’m here to return it, that’s all. It’s not weird. It’s normal, totally nor- “Don’t.” Loki’s deep voice had suddenly commanded through the wood. “Come back to the bed.”

The footsteps paused before retreating. Your stomach clenched, chest tightening while dread rolled up your body like a wave. Without thinking, you pressed your ear to the door. Loki moaned. A low, guttural sound you’d only heard when he was nine inches deep. You frowned, blood thumping in your chest. This was not an unexpected scenario, but hearing it first-hand smarted like vinegar. You took a step back and frowned at the sealed door, rage bubbling in your belly. He’s so fucking full of it, you thought furiously; instantly chastising yourself for being annoyed at all. Jealous. You’re fucking jealous...you fucking idiot. You squeezed the brooch a final time before throwing it harshly at the door. Shit. It hit the centre with a loud thud. Shitshit, Why did I do that?! Swearing under your breath you made a hasty retreat down the corridor, a plan forming as you made your way back to your room. There was just enough time before the tactics meeting. And you had a tactic of your own to deploy.

“Righto guys n’ gals, time for a few home truths.” Steve clapped his hands together, resting them under his chin as he stood at the head of the table. He’s the only one more annoying than Loki, you thought; letting your eyes flicker from your notepad to the pristine god sitting directly across the table. Loki found your covert gaze, immediately shooting you an almost imperceptible wink. Nope, still Loki; you decided, returning his presumptive gesture with a roll of your eyes. Thor sat beside him, the blonde’s hoodie making him look even bulkier beside his lean, perfectly toned brother radiating arrogance in his stupid tight t-shirt. Thor was staring again. You saw his chin dip lower, the swirling blue of his eyes darkening as he gave you that look. His lustful glare had become all too common around the Tower since the red dress incident. And it told you that you tactics were about to play out perfectly.

Fingers pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, being careful to keep looking at the Captain as you tilted your body towards the head of the table. The fingers brushed down your neck, stopping to lightly massage the dent of your collarbone before falling and undoing one innocent button just above your heart. “All this technology is nice and dandy, but if an enemy intercepts our comms; we’re jimmied. Kaplunkered, folks…unless you have the inbuilt qualities, of course.” Steve said. Your fingertips brushed back to your shoulder, digging deeper into the bare flesh and letting your dark chiffon blouse slip down. The fingers caught on a twinge. You frowned, closing your eyes with lips parted in a calculated silent sigh of pleasure. “...so we need to make more of an effort to ensure our bop em’, sock em’ techniques are up to scratch. The ol' S&M. Swords and muscles, folks.” The feeling of Loki’s gaze lingering on you touching yourself was palpable. His analysing stare sifting over your body was something you had become as accustomed to recognising as the waft of burnt toast. You let a smile twitch the edges of your mouth, opening your eyes to concentrate on Steve once again. “Later this afternoon we’ll run a group session, and we can make sure we’re all where we need to be.” You gave your shoulder a final squeeze, letting an expression that was entirely too sexual flash across your features. A low whimper erupted from Thor’s direction. “Asgardians?” Steve huffed in exasperation, making you turn to face the accused with innocent interest. “This applies to you, too.” Thor snapped to attention, babbling incoherently as his cheeks flushed. Loki’s eyes narrowed towards you, before he too looked toward Rogers with a nod. Cool as a New York winter morning. “I concur that the team skillset is somewhat lacking in the close combat department, Rogers. Particularly where blades are concerned.” he said with an air of haughtiness only he could muster. “I would be happy to whip them, into shape.” Whip. The word was onomatopoeic on his tongue. A soft beginning climaxing in a sharp crack which lingered on his lips. His hands lay clasped in front of him on the table, the long lines of his torso perfectly straight through impeccable posture. Those dark waves were tied back in a loose bun, strands hanging against his carved cheekbones. “Excellent.” Steve clapped his hands together again. “Everyone in the training hall in one hour under 'Master of Blades' Laufeyson, then.” he quipped.

I wonder if he had it loose while he was fucking her, you thought; an intrusive mental image making you fight the urge to squirm in your seat. Memories of his wild locks trailing your body filled your mind, how you’d always tug it roughly as he took his pleasure like an animal in heat. Did she do the same? You imagined Loki padding naked and sated across his rooms, casually scraping his luxurious hair still sex-damp up into the messy bun while manifesting the simple black t-shirt and chinos he was wearing. His rooms, you thought with a twinge. He’s never taken me to his rooms. Wetness slid between your thighs as you shuffled, feeling your jaw clench. Loki smirked, as Steve’s voice prattled in the background. You imagined how you would do things differently if he had his hair tied up like that while you fucked him. How your mouth would suck and bruise all along the uninterrupted landscape of pure masculine eroticism he called a jawline. From his chin to his earlobe. God, you wanted to fucking bite him. Hard. Like the bruise he had become accustomed to leaving on the curve of your shoulder. A gift. A remembrance. His mark. You suddenly wondered if anyone else around this table wore that mark.

There were mumbles of disapproval at the idea of Loki as a teacher while seats scraped back on the floor. You lifted your bag onto the surface, nudging a pen which rolled to the middle of the table. “Oops.” you muttered coyly, sliding the bag purposefully to the side. You leant forward, lowering your chest and giving both brothers a view down the neckline of your blouse. Thor’s jaw slackened, seeing the lacey lingerie cupping your breasts. “See you in an hour, boys.” you murmured innocently, beginning to slide the pen towards you. Thor’s glazed stare travelled from your cleavage to your face and back to your chest. The lace was a bright, rich red. Loki’s gaze rose from the salacious view down your top to your eyes. The icy set of his features made your nipples harden. A low growl rumbled in the blonde’s throat as you straightened, not looking back as you casually exited the room with a smirk. “Don’t even think about it, brother.” Loki snarled under his breath, feeling Thor’s biceps vibrate against his shoulder with covert mirth. “Oh brother…” the blonde growled, watching the curve of your ass as you disappeared out of sight. “I fear it is far too late for that.”

The Tower weapons training facility was on the thirty-second floor, but it may as well have been in the basement. There was no natural light, just overhead runners that made it feel like you could be anywhere.

You and Nat pushed the swing doors open in sync, letting them fly wide as the waiting group turned expectantly. You’d changed. A black sports bra underneath a loose racer-back top with high-waisted leggings completing the uniform. You smiled to yourself at the knowledge that the matching lace underpants to the red bra were safely concealed. Ready to be deployed if needed. When needed. “Nice of you to join us at last.” Loki sneered, projecting his voice as he ran his gaze appraisingly over you both. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Laufeyson” Nat shrugged, stretching her bicep over her chest. “Not everyone walks around in baggy sweatpants all damn day.” She threw Scott a knowing look. His eyes widened at the unexpected barb, pulling out the sides of his sweatpants with a pout before looking to Sam for support. Sam shook his head silently. Loki ignored her, striding forward from the head of the hall towards the group. “A 'Master of Blades." Loki announced theatrically as the mutters grew silent. "While the Captain may have noted this in childish jest, I can assure you it is no mere flippantry. Across these nine realms, my skills with steel are legendary...and it is your privilege to learn from me today.” “Is your boyfriend on his period or something?” Nat whispered, making you cover your mouth to suppress a laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend. God forbid.” you hissed, regaining your composure. “He gets off of this sort of stuff. Lording it over people. He’s a dick.” “Sometimes all they need to be is a dick.” Nat said solemnly, making you press a finger to your mouth to stifle another giggle. She smirked, pressing her lips together. Loki threw you both a scowl. You had been trying not to look at him, knowing that as soon as you did the familiar fizz between your legs would rise; but it was too late. His hair was still in that goddam messy bun, strands falling in thin curls around his jawline. The overhead lighting accentuated every shadow cast by his cheekbones, that fair skin utterly luminous. He wore a tight charcoal gym top that suddenly reminded you of the wetsuit. That fucking wetsuit, you thought; clenching at the memory of it peeling down his chiselled abs. The spandex clung to every curve of his muscles, his biceps perfectly encased beneath the fabric. Only his forearms were visible, the sight of thick veins running beneath his pale skin making saliva well under your tongue. Pristine white straps ran down his chest from over his shoulders, part of a high waisted swordfighting ensemble tight around his midriff. The material ran straight down his hips, snug to the crotch by design. They fell just above the knee, a pair of tight black socks tucked beneath the hem. Perfectly fitted, naturally. How does he look so fucking good in everything, you thought wistfully; watching the flex of his thigh muscles through the white cotton as he stalked towards you. The straps hugged his chest, bound tight. The mental image of riding them down his bare shoulders while you mounted him filled your mind; feeling his cock straining up between your thighs. The material creased at his hips, accentuating the bulge of his obscene manhood with every stride. He stopped, his face inches from yours. “Thank you for returning my relic.” he stated formally, hands clasped behind his back.

You grimaced, regretting letting your irritation boil over with your earlier theatrics. “That’s fine. Shall we?” Loki frowned at your brevity, searching your face before taking his place in the centre of the semi-circle. In a flash of green, a steel blade appeared in his grip. Dulled, of course. He twirled the twenty-four inches of metal fluidly, enjoying the reluctantly impressed faces of the team gathered. Scott ooo’ed. Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Loki held the sword in front of his face, hands clasped around the hilt; splitting the symmetrical perfection in two. Only one side was smiling. “My first wisdom about the sword” he enunciated regally, “is that it’s power comes from the force of your core.” He looked at you as he said it, sending chills shuddering through the base of your leggings. “The blade is an extension of your body. You direct it. Master it. You do not follow it.” He began to pace, swinging the sword theatrically. Each slice made a cutting whir through the air. “Every strike, every thrust, every stab should be calculated. Each offensive move or defensive counter-strike a graceful, fluid motion. Your impulses must be tamed, so that you are always in control. Dominating, like one would handle a submissive lover.” “God, even his tutorials are sexualised.” you whispered bitterly to Nat. She offered a weak eye-roll. “What was that, Agent?” Loki snapped, his stoic demeanour holding as he rested the blade against his shoulder. You sighed, feeling your adrenaline rise at his confrontation. God, you thought. Imagine him wearing those fucking fencing pants shirtless- “I said, even your tutorials are sexualised. Is that really necessary?” Loki let out a low chuckle, weaving the handle of the blade expertly as he stalked closer. “It is not a question of what is necessary” he hummed, running one long digit along the blade horizontal to his midriff. His eyes followed the finger, until it rested on the dulled tip. “At their basest level, all realms share two passions which are impossible to extinguish. Violence, and...sex.” His long lashes fluttered upwards, making your breath hitch.

“Mastering the art of the blade is inextricable with mastering the art of sex, Agent. One cannot be achieved without the other. At least, not in a manner which will cause any significant lasting impression.” Nat snorted beside you. “And you’ve mastered these arts have you?” you sneered, folding your arms. “You know I have, Agent.” he purred darkly, making your cheeks heat as every gaze fell on you. “But since you seem resistant to my methods of tutelage, let’s have a demonstration shall we?”

You shrugged, ignoring the churning of your stomach and extending your hand in expectation. Loki nodded towards the wall, where twelve immaculately positioned short-swords had appeared resting vertically. You pursed your lips, placidly making your way over and picking one up. You swivelled the blade in your grip, feeling the weight. A pin drop would have echoed. The onlookers stepped back as Loki stalked towards you like a panther on the hunt. A fencing mask appeared in his hand, swinging casually before he threw it to you. You grunted, tossing it to the side before raising your sword. Pretentious Asshole. The straps over his shoulders strained with every calculated, heavy breath; the ropes of thick muscle shifting as he perfected his stance. Suddenly, Loki lunged. A clang of steel resounded around the hall as your blade met his, blocking in a high X that spliced his sharpened features in two. He pushed forwards, making you stumble as you desperately tried to hold your ground. His chin was lowered, smouldering eyes burning into yours as the muscle of his forearm bulged in thick lines. “Defend yourself.” he growled, scraping his blade upwards and pivoting it with a flick of his wrist, immediately going for an underhand strike. You retreated, countering again; steel singing as metal slid to his hilt. “Fuck you, Loki.” you hissed, bringing your free hand up in a fist. He flinched, raising a palm to catch it. You kneed him in the ribs. A low rumble of mirth rippled across the semi-circle around you both. Loki barely reacted. Barely. But it was just enough. You leveraged the weight change, pushing his sword upward and ducking under his arm. The dull tip of your blade met his jugular as you pushed his bicep down with all the force you could muster, edging on the pressure-point of that taut neck you knew he loved sucked. Bet he got it sucked this morning, you thought venomously; panting as a reluctant grin stretched across Loki’s lips. You know he could kill you with one hand if he chose. With his obscenely large thumb, even. For now, it was a hollow victory to be sure. But you would take it. “You found my weak spot, it seems.” he murmured quietly, a knowing smile tugging at his dimples; eyebrows slanted in mock-surrender. “You’re easily distracted.” you panted, pushing away his bicep with a rough shove. There was a ripple of tentative applause as Loki straightened and you made your way back to your spot. Nat nodded approvingly.

“As demonstrated by our colleague here, the force of the blade is not always in its length, sharpness or girth. It is the manner in which it is wielded. With the innate, fierce hostility toward any who would overpower you.” Loki’s chin tilted as he spoke, analysing the effect of his words on those watching. On you. “She was not willing to let me overpower her.” he continued thoughtfully, fingering the edge of the blade. “If I was a mere man, I’d say she may even have succeeded.” “Hey- she did succeed, asshole.” Nat interjected, offering a nudge of solidarity. Loki chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that, Romanoff. A Master of Blades is not easily defeated by such a…” Loki's eyes ran down to your trainers and back to meet your narrowed eyes, tilting his head. “Let’s continue. Pairs. And I shall observe your efforts.” Your nostrils flared, a deep growl simmering in your chest. You were vaguely aware of a tall shadow beginning to loom over you. “My Lady, may I-” “Yes.” you snapped, still glaring at Loki as he slid his sword gracefully into a leather back-holster he had manifested out of thin air. You turned towards Thor, forcing a smile. “It would be my pleasure.” The blonde god’s eyes followed the movement of your lips, before licking his own. “Wonderful.” he rumbled after a pause. As you watched him join the others retrieving blades from the wall, your fingers found their way to the waistband of your leggings, folding them over.

Your eyes flickered back to Loki, swinging his blade fluidly in a series of joined twists and strikes that made your traitorous sex scream with wet, hot need. The next hour was blessedly uneventful; a series of test formations observed by Master Laufeyson as he circled the group like a shark. The relentless clang of metal rang in your ears as Loki’s deep voice reverberated, his sultry commands making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. “Inward cut to downward block, Lang. Upper cut to Alpha. Go harder.” Loki bellowed, the gravitas making a shudder roll down your spine. “Impress me.” he announced sanctimoniously, flicking the curling waves around his face back with a flourish. The dark god left your vision as you side-stepped, waiting for your chance to strike his elder brother. You absent-mindedly twisted the bottom of your baggy t-shirt, balling it at your back and tucking it into the folded leggings. A flash of red lace was visible. Inevitably, your gaze was drawn back to Loki. Standing there with his sword tucked in that ludicrously erotic back-holster. Straps. He’s all straps today; you thought, biting your lip.

That spandex top tucked into the fencing pants did nothing to hide the carved abdomen beneath it; the outline of his cock visible with every measured pace as he observed the team with haughty disdain. The leather of the back-holster was completely out of place and yet...perfectly natural. Loki's triangular shoulders flexed as he paced in a wide circle, condescension at their efforts simmering beneath half-lidded eyes. How you yearned to hook your fingers beneath those leather straps as he fucked you senseless, pulling him tighter. Deeper. Hearing him hiss as the tight skin cut underneath his armpits- “Shit.” you gasped, raising your hand just in time to block an attack from your blonde opponent. Thor snarled, walking you backwards. His wandering eyes travelled down your body, widening as he noticed the flash of red lace rising over your hip like blood in the water. His blade pushed closer to your face, pressing your forearm to your chest. The chill of the steel radiated against your skin as it hovered close to your cheek. “Tonight.” Thor murmured. “Your invitation. I accept.” “My...invitation?” you gasped, as his sword lowered to your throat; your own forced past the point of no return. Thor growled approvingly. “Never fear, I know of your unfortunate liaisons with my brother. It is not the first time a woman has sought the comfort of my mighty cock after being unfulfilled in his bed.” “My-? I..ohgod.” Your sword clattered to the ground as Thor’s hand slid firmly around your waist, pulling your hips towards his. The dulled blade slid down your neck, resting on the curve of your cleavage. You curled your hand in a fist, ready to punch him right in the eye. Suddenly Thor's blade was flicked away from your bosom, cast upwards from his meaty grip like a toothpick by another, larger length of metal. It hit the floor and bounced, rattling. “Brother.” Loki snarled, his sword raised to Thor’s throat; eyes flashing with warning. Gone was the short, more wieldy weapon; and in it’s place a longsword fit for battle. The dark god let his hardened gaze fall on you. “I credited you with more finesse, Agent.” he sneered. “Clearly I was mistaken.” Thor released you, making sure his hand slid lightly over your ass as he did so. You grimaced. “If Ordinances of the Colours do not apply in this realm, brother...then neither does the Covenant of the First Seed.” he said pompously. Loki snorted, tilted his chin to the ceiling with a mirthless chuckle before lowering it once again with renewed malice in his eyes. “Since when did you respect the Covenant of the First Seed, brother?” he spat. “In this realm or in any other.” Thor shrugged. “I see not how it is my fault that you could not satisfy your lovers, Loki.” With a flash of green, another mighty longsword appeared in Loki’s free hand. He flipped the handle effortlessly towards Thor, the implication clear. You suddenly realised that neither were dull blades. Nordic runes were engraved along the shafts, thick grooves running through the centre to ornate golden handles which gleamed garishly under the overhead lights. “Wait I-” you panted, before a hand wrapped around your forearm pulling you backwards. “We can’t do anything, just stay out the way.” Nat muttered, confusion etched across her brow. “Is this about you?” she added quietly, her voice tinged with pride as she watched the scene unfold. The brothers circled each other like feral wolves as the team shrank back warily against the wall. “I don’t know anymore.” you whispered, wondering what the hell you’d just done.

Both lunged at the same time, meeting in a clash of bared teeth and snarls and heavy steel. Thor pressed the blade towards Loki, bending him backwards before your lover kicked his brother’s feet from under him. The blonde hit the ground with a harsh thud, immediately rising to the sound of Loki’s menacing laughter echoing around the high ceiling. It was relentless. A series of nimble twists and strikes from the dark god outmanoeuvring his brother’s lumbering frame as metal struck and vibrated in the air. Strands of Loki’s hair flew wildly, sticking to his forehead as he wielded the weaponry like the master he was. The abject fury on his face had given way to something softer. Mischief, you thought; watching every pop of his thick forearms as he struck repeatedly into Thor’s feeble defence. His elongated thighs lunged with expert precision, the curves of his obscenely toned calves visible through the tight socks with every calculated thrust. Thor was clearly more accustomed to using his fists, the blade forming no more than a rustic barrier to his brother’s rage. Loki dodged his clumsy attempts with ease as the blonde left a trail of destruction through the gym. A chorus of shock rippled among the onlookers with every crunch as Thor’s sword met the wall while Loki spun away - his growls of frustration growing louder. You counted seven holes. Wait...make that eight. Thor lumbered towards his brother, hair swinging as his jaw clenched. Loki smirked, pacing quickly towards him with sword raised before dodging at the last moment and spinning behind. He pinned the edge of the sharp blade to his brother’s neck; a free arm fast around his chest as he rubbed the flat against a pulsating vein. Thor bellowed, his reddened face writhing as he struggled. “Yield.” Loki announced loudly, his voice frighteningly calm. “I will not.” Thor roared, twisting as Loki whispered something in his ear. You watched silently, eyes frantically scanning them as Thor’s brow furrowed in anguish. “Damn you, brother!” he shouted, as Loki released him with a final snarl of victory. Your eyes ran covetously over Loki’s thighs in those tight pants as he swaggered backwards; suddenly realising you had been holding your breath. “What the heck…” Steve’s whine pierced the air. “What is this?” The group turned sheepishly towards him, as Loki moved the sword in a casual, flourishing figure of eight. He raised his arm, sliding the Asgardian steel into the leather holster like a fucking tease. “My brother and I crossed swords, that is all.” he purred innocently, casting a glance towards his heavily breathing sibling still bubbling with silent fury. “Oh is that right?” Steve huffed, putting his hands on his hips as he strutted forwards, observing the piles of plaster littering the gym from Thor’s clumsy combat techniques. “Well you can clear up all this goshdarned mess.” he snipped, poking Loki in the chest. The god smirked, running a hand innocently through his hair. “And don’t think about using magic to tidy the blade depository, Laufeyson. Last time it was an absolute tarnation of a scene in there. Sheaths and daggers and morning-glories all over the heckin’ shop. All out of order from the wallchart, I may add.. which is clearly displayed, thank-you-very-much.”

You bit your lip, stifling a giggle. The thought of Loki arranging the blade depositary by hand was laughable. “Agent, you watch him.” Steve said, waving a hand towards you as he began to strut towards the door. “Make sure he behaves. I know I can count on you.” You stood open mouthed as the team began to assemble a pile of swords on the floor in front of you, mumbling their condolences. You sighed as Loki’s hard bicep brushed against your own. You didn't need to look at him to know that shit-eating grin would be stretched across his infuriatingly handsome face. The scent of heavy leather and tang of his fresh sweat radiating the heat between you made you feel light-headed. “You heard the man, Agent.” he murmured, that velveteen voice sinking into the gusset of your surely ruined panties. “The question is...do you think you have what it takes to make me behave?” There was a heavy pause.

“Inquiring minds wish to know...” he keened, his mirth palpable. “Shut up.” you snapped, as Loki chuckled. “Little does Rogers know that it is you, Agent, who needs to be brought to heel.” he purred, tucking his thumbs under the straps of the fencing pants and running them purposefully downward. He leant to the side when they met the base of the high waistband. His warm breath fanned your cheek; moist lips grazing your earlobe. “And Agent…” he hummed. “I know just where to start.”

Continued in Crossed Swords: To The Hilt Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

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[jerzwriter]

I hate this godforsaken season.....

[fionnalovesanimeboysandholo]

Yakuza's fiance is such a sexy anime. I feel bad that I started watching it...

[psych-meup]

It's 90 degrees in October. Satan, take your weather back. I don't like it. It's soup season, damn it.

[saint-mona]

Traveling through the UK for 3 weeks completely alone could fix me.