Pairing: Thor/Loki
WARNING: PWP (porn without plot) Consensual issues, I think? Ugh, just read it if it's your cup of tea.
Timeframe: leave it to your imagination
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Marvel Comics or the Movies
Author's note: never wrote such a kinky fic before. Hope I've done some justice.
So they say it's pleasure but it's pain
"Do you hate me that much, brother?"
"Yes." Loki told Thor with a firm sneer on his face, his look meant to be venomous. "Yes, I hate you more than I hate anyone else. And don't you forget it, Brother."
Thor's look was stony, no emotions betraying his face except for that little gleam that shone on the surface of his eyes.
Loki was satisfied with that little gleam and smirked victoriously. Even after all this time, his brother was still so much in love with him, it was ridiculous.
(Burn like I do. Take like I do. Make me yours, like I am yours forever. This is the tragic story of you and me; bound by a cursed fate, a cursed existence. I will always love you like I will always hate you. So hate me. And love me.)
THWACK
"Ah!"
Loki's head strained up as he gasped for breath even as the contraption bound to his mouth made it hard to. His veins thumped blindingly fast and hard against his neck. It left him feeling vulnerable and he was grateful for the gag as it silenced the whimpers that were surely leaving his mouth. At least, he didn't have to bite his lips bloody to stop the cries and whimpers like the many times before.
They left marks.
This was easier.
Degrading, but easier.
THWACK!
A harder slap struck on his buttocks, catching him by surprise and a cry forcibly pushed out of him. His whole frame convulsed, starting from his toes to his hands. Bunching the sheets under his hand, his head fell against the bed as he turned it to look over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders. Hard, calloused hands gripped tightly onto his rear, pulling him back into the owner of those hands (he could feel the heated member right between his thighs and held the urge to rut against it) and then, another slap sent him away. He couldn't do anything to stop or resist this… this humiliation, this strange and new way his brother had learned to teach him discipline – since, just as his hands were bound behind his back so was his magic. The muffled yowls of pain were followed by stifling moans of pleasure, but who could tell the difference?
Loki was hoping Thor wasn't.
It went on for a while, a pattern suddenly forming in his mind about how it was going. There were about three type of assaults on his bottom in between a two second gap: the first slap kept him on his toes as he waited for the strike against his flesh, the second one to give him a pain that stopped the inevitable pleasure from reaching north, and then... nails roughly digging into his flesh, pulling him back before the third slap sent him reeling forward. Saliva pooled around his mouth, dripping all over the container around his mouth. His breaths were hot against his own mouth; sickening in a way that Thor knew just how much he hated it.
The pattern of assaults went on for a long time. Just that repetitive motion, like maybe it was supposed to mean something. Maybe, it was. Who knew what went on in the God of Thunder's head?
Loki's rear was sore and burning with the imprints of the assault and yet, still, Thor didn't pause for breath.
Will the Oaf ever get tired? He wondered bitterly even as he bit his lip to keep a particularly ear-screeching scream in when Thor slapped him again.
"nngh." He pressed his lips together, keeping careful not to bite them though, by now, he didn't know if it was an effective measure or not. He was already ruined. In a automatic reflex that was not under his control, he glanced quickly over his shoulder to see Thor readying his hand to strike once again.
Loki opened his mouth to beg- Brother, please- but instead closed his eyes as the hand came to strike more at his lower back than his ass. The pain was immense as he had seen it coming as much as he had not. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes as he stopped them by brusquely rubbing them off on the sheets under him. No tears would fall today. He vowed himself, even as more tears fell from his eyes. Not in front of him. He added desperately to himself, to these treacherous responses. If Loki could cut off his heart so, it would stop beating this hard, he would. It was just as well that he needed this heart to live.
A moment passed when the second slap didn't come to crash at him and he paused, reluctantly looking back over to Thor who was surprisingly looking back at him. His face was reproachful, shoulders straightened tersely and arms lying easily by his side as he knelt in all his naked and enviable glory. There was hurt in those eyes too, but they were used as weapons against Loki's closed heart instead of real, glassy emotions. They were two frozen stones. Like the blue ice of Jotuniehiem, they caused a chill to go through Loki's spine and he shivered despite himself.
Unable to bear looking at his not-brother, Loki looked down at the bed, head lowered cautiously with waiting. Thor was the God of Thunder for a reason. He was soft; the warmth of a sun if he felt affection for you just like a sunny day would. But if you angered him, if you disappointed him, if you led him to doubt, he would find ways to burn you with his lightening, with the fire that surrounds him like wet leaves do to bare skin, and with an incorrigibility and unpredictability that scared Loki the most.
Thor could be as nice and selfless and loving as the best of them. But he had also, learned to be hard and unforgiving and vulgar in some sense.
Loki had been proud and smug once upon a time for corrupting his brother so much that he would fall for such crude acts (for were they not crude right here with Loki kneeling face-down in front of him and Thor punishing him with a father-like sternness? It is sick and twisted, is what tis' is), but now, it only made Loki suppress a flinch and tense when he would see the shadows of an upcoming storm in those light yet wintery blue eyes. And right now, Thor had that same look to him.
Oh, how he knew his brother so well and yet, not at all.
Just as he had seen coming, Thor shoved at him so he was flung over on his back. Loki only had a moment to exhale before his throat tightened when he saw his brother sitting just above him. A fire was cackling in those eyes as he leaned to Loki with a harsh look to him and then, he was gripping both of Loki's thighs up to bend them backwards as much as into his stomach as his bones could lead him and two fingers roughly opened him up, unyielding despite the little fight that Loki put up.
Those hands kept him still even as he felt his discomfort growing as his brother's dry fingers sliced back and forth into him. With his fingers completely inside Loki, Thor's other hand left his thighs to hit him on his face, making his head loll to the side. Thor gripped at his face grimly to straighten his head again until the little nails dug into his cheeks, and then, that hand was sliding down to grip Loki's neck tightly. Loki blearily looked at the wrathful anger that was his brother and it was a thing of beauty and a thing to fear.
His heart couldn't drum any louder in his ears.
His lips parted to get a breath in and unwillingly, let out a quite pitiful noise that could be heard even through the stupid contraption on his mouth. Loki wouldn't ever say he liked being muted or incapable of speech, but the sound that left him was a sound deep from his soul and that was a sound he never wanted Thor to hear. Thor heard anyway. He froze suddenly, his grip severely cutting off Loki's air circuit before it relaxed and then, Thor just stared at him. Intense, cold eyes.
Loki couldn't look away even if he wanted to.
A few slow, agonizing moments later, Thor's fingers slid out of Loki's hole and the muscles of his hole clenched at the loss. Would Thor back down now that he noticed what he had made Loki already become? Should Loki be feeling fortunate for small mercies?
No. Loki wanted the whole deal and it must have showed on his face, because his golden-haired of a fool brother's reluctant face abruptly changed to that resolute, brutal one again (of course, it was accompanied by that little gleam again). And then, Thor was gripping Loki's thighs in haste and piercing inside him with his thick and big cock in a cruel jab.
A breath whooshed out of his brother as he adjusted to Loki's insides and then, he was heartlessly thrusting in and out of him like the barbarian he was.
Or so, Loki thought (wished for). Instead, the pace of Thor's thrust was imperceptible, almost inactive, and defiant (as if he could read what Loki wanted from him and didn't want to give it to him, because wasn't this Loki's punishment? Not his reward?)
When did his brother become so… not-dumb?
It must be those damned mortals and their vile, insolent ways. They must have taught Thor the art of teasing and getting inside the mind of a mad-man who craved for pain as much as pleasure.
Loki didn't realize until too late that muffled screeches of frustration so loud they could be heard audibly even from under the mask, left him. He stilled when he noticed the slip and didn't move a muscle, averting his eyes from where Thor knelt above him. His brother was staring at him again.
Well, let him stare! This was the cost of letting himself lose when he should have known better than to believe he could have truly defeated his brother this time. Next time. murmured the voice quickly inside his head and he relaxed a little at the assurance. Albeit, only a little.
Deliberately, he let his eyes roam until they met those warm, blue eyes. Warm. The voice inside him repeated in wonder, sounding floored and he couldn't help the way his eyes bulged at the look. It had been many years since he saw that look directed at him once again. It was not the same as when he was still considered an Odinson. No, there was no smile curving those lips. Now, it was cursed to a frown whenever it came to Loki. A disapproving demeanor. Like, he couldn't stand the sight of Loki anymore than Loki did.
But still.
Those eyes looked at him, pained and so familiar.
"I'm sorry, brother." said Thor, but it was not an apology. Or maybe, it was. Loki was too empty to clear up his mind and think through it. A good thing too since the next he knew, Thor was thrusting inside him just like Loki wished he would. Firmly, pulling back to roughly tear into him again, just a bit faster and harder than the last. Loki would have laughed if he could (there was something , but the pain in his chest was spreading throughout his innards and he could not breathe for the life of him. He closed his eyes, a small stray tear slipping past his eyes he didn't even notice or feel. What Loki really felt as Thor fastened his pace was the spiking pleasure and pain mixing up in a petty combination, turning him into a shaking mess.
Thor's thrusts got rougher, sloppier and then-
THWACK
rung in his ears as his numb ass was slapped again and again. He moaned, left all inhibitions to the back of his head (he never actually held back when it came to this. He just liked to pretend he did.) and Thor continued with fucking him like the whore he was at this moment (for this moment only).
Ripping him—all of him—apart.
He came, hot and sweaty, his whole frame straining as his hole contracted around Thor's cock in a convulsing manner. Thor didn't last much longer after that, vibrating with need and roaring out Loki's name desperately. He leant down finally, biting the side of Loki's neck as he rode out his release inside.
Loki's limbs were weak. Even if they weren't tied by cuffs behind his back, he doubted he would be able to move, much less escape. Thor had taken half of him prisoner to need (No, you liar. It's all of you. He took all of you. He always takes all of you) and the other half was too tired to do anything about it.
A while later, Thor lifted his head from Loki's neck and stared at him, his face much closer than Loki was accustomed to most of the time.
He noticed that the warmth in those eyes still stayed.
Loki wondered why this fool would still stand to even look at him like that after all he had done and closed that thought off permanently, turning his face away.
He gave a vicious, sideways glare at Thor after he collected his wits and Thor understood and complied with Loki's sharp, nonverbal order. He took off Loki's gag and before he could even speak or try to take Loki's cuff off next or even give Loki's tarnished clothes back to him, Loki murmured a spell and left the warmth of his brother with an abruptness that cut him to the core.
A breath of relief left him as he closed his eyes and opened them again to an open field.
He found himself lying on a bed of grass, a yellow sunshine above his head and stared a moment too long before standing up, brushing off dirt that clung to him and flinched as warm liquid slipped out from between his arse-cheeks to stick to his thighs.
He snorted bitterly.
Trust his brother's thick cum to stay within him even if he got rid of the owner. Sighing deeply to ready himself, he concentrated on the magic around him and the cuffs from behind his back broke apart haltingly. He grabbed his wrists as he twisted them, looking around.
Alfehiem. Ah then, he should get out of here before one of those Elves came and found him.
He put the illusion up as if he was dressed accordingly and roamed off into the jungle at the far end of the field.
Once he was in the safety of the shrouding shadows of his current hiding place, he washed up and wore different clothes so that the memory of Thor tearing his previous clothes apart to push him on his hands and knees would be lost somewhere in the depths of his soul (just like many of his other memories. A collection of moments that were better off discarded.)
But the phantom sting on his bottom (just not in his ass) and face remained with him till a long time, reminding him vengefully of the pain (pleasure) that he had suffered at Thor's hands even as the bloom of red faded from his flesh with time.
It got so bad that once, his lips felt dry when he thought about that moment, his groin stirring under his breeches and he found his fingers touching his lips to suddenly wonder about a kiss.
Fool.
He thought to the Oaf back in his castle of ignorance and bliss and shiny warmth.
You are insufferable.
The fury burned hot in the palm of his hand as he clenched it tightly. Fuming half-heartedly (because his heart was tired and broken and weary of fighting his brother) as he planned to get revenge for that humiliating experience for next time, Loki thought about how wrong he was when he thought he would have the advantage over his brother for once.
(You didn't take into account that you loved him more than he loved you)