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coralstories · 4 months

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Jawline of a God [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A one-shot about Loki's hot bone structure. That's it. Inspired by THIS (#sexualapocalypsesociety represent) Warnings: Extreme Loki thirst. Graphic descriptions of bone structure. Some sexual imagery/references to smut. Language. A/N: I can only hope I do them justice🙏Never say I don't follow through lol. W/C 1.2k

Loki sat across the wide table from you, perfectly poised. His hair was tied back today, loosely gathered in a messy ponytail. It made you want to rip his shirt off in the middle of Roger’s 7am briefing. I wonder what would happen if I did, you thought. I wonder if he’d like that. His eyes flickered towards you. You tilted your head, unsubtly inspecting the photographs hanging behind him on the wall. As Rogers rumbled on at the front of the room, Loki cleared his throat gently. Your eyes were unavoidably drawn back to him, waiting quietly with a knowing smirk on his face. He brought two fists up to his chest, spreading his bent arms in a tight stretch before pressing his hands together. The force of his biceps strained through the tight cotton encasing them. He winked. What a dick, you thought, rolling your eyes. He totally thought I was checking him out. How rude.

You tried to focus on the slides Steve somehow managed to fill every single night in preparation for his interminable morning meetings. Without even realising you were doing it, you were suddenly looking at Loki again. He was facing the front now, concentrating. That made a change. His brow was furrowed, listening to whatever it was Steve was actually talking about. What was it? You couldn’t remember. Loki’s jawline in profile was more poetic than exquisitely carved marble. Bernini himself could not create such a thing of beauty. The way the straight edge rocked sharply upwards at the angle below his ear like a calligrapher's stroke. Strands of dark hair hung around the border, teasingly brushing against the pale skin of his elegant neck, luminescent in the morning light. If you ever found Loki Laufeyson in your bed, you would spend an awful lot of time kissing that neck, working your way to that sinful jawline, up those razor-sharp cheekbones. Taking your time. Biting gently as he groaned beneath you. You knew his skin would be soft as fuck. You just knew it. Loki wet his lips, the tip of his pink tongue darting out in an absent-minded lick. You felt wetness beginning to gather in your panties as you imagined how perfectly the curve of his face would fit nestled in your neck, grunting against your skin. You would make him hiss with need as you rode him mercilessly, enjoying every primal noise accompanied by a clench of that powerful jaw. He would slot into the crevices of your shoulder like a hand in a leather glove, moaning unintelligibly into your hair while slotting another equally perfect part of himself deep within. Leather. Why did you have to think about leather. Loki swallowed; chin slightly raised. An inexplicably arousing muscle at the side of his face flexed with a gentle bob as your stomach followed the motion of his Adam's apple. Like going over a hill in the back of a car. Suddenly you felt very hot. Loki smiled at something. his dimples flashing as the skin across his taunt jaw tightened. He flexed his neck forward, humming agreement at a well-made point, probably. It was all just white noise. Jesus Christ. You couldn’t look away. Thoughts of his face buried between your thighs. The stamina of that muscled jaw. The flash of that apocalyptic bone structure smeared with your arousal coming into view from between your legs to simply tilt and ask “I trust my services are to your satisfaction, Agent…”

You re-adjusted in your seat, the damp situation between your legs now fully beyond the point of saving.

You shouldn’t be having these thoughts right now. I’m pretty sure someone here can read minds. But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember who.

Loki’s head subtly angled toward you, making you squeeze your thighs together under the table. You felt your eyebrows twitch as you fought to contain a whine of need under his smouldering stare. How is he so fucking hot, this shouldn’t be allowed, it's indecent you thought fruitlessly as a smile curled imperceptibly at one side of his mouth. You wondered if he threw his head back during sex. The image of that strong chin upended in pleasure towards the ceiling as he took you relentlessly was too much. What was his favourite position? He seemed like a doggy-style kind of guy, which would be a shame...you wouldn’t be able to see his face. But still. Small wins. You needed to focus. Focus. You scribbled nonsense on your notepad, eyes fluttering hopelessly upwards every few seconds. Loki sucked in his cheeks thoughtfully, the sharp peaks of his cheekbones striking your perverted gaze like a slap. Dead, you thought. I’m dead. And this is hell. Your core was starting to ache, begging to be touched by his dexterous fingers, wrapped sinfully around a pen as he minded his own business. Your stare swept up the landscape of his cheekbones once more, tracing the lines your tongue would explore, imagining how they would look from above as you rode him. They were so tight. So sharp. Jesus. He brought an elbow to rest on the table, resting his thumb on his lips as his forefinger stroked the line of his jaw thoughtfully.

I’m going to expire, you thought. In a work meeting. And then when the paramedics get here and cut off my clothes like they do in movies, everyone will know that I overdosed from rampant arousal. Like an animal. Fuck. Laufeyson’s long finger played at the sharp angle, circling absent-mindedly against the skin beneath his ear. That’s where you would suck a bruising kiss, right in that soft virginal expanse below the masculine devastation of his jawline. The thought of his artery pumping beneath the skin, at the mercy of your needy mouth as you marked him was all you could see, all you could feel. You would kiss every inch of him. Every...legendary...inch. A loud smack of a binder on the table broke your fantasy, blinking into reality as those around you stood. You cleared your throat, taking one last longing look at the lines of Loki’s bone structure as he gathered his notes with an air of innate regality only he was able to accomplish. You stood, arranging your files; not noticing the approaching hand encircling your wrist until it clasped tightly. “It’s me.” Loki purred quietly above your shoulder. You could feel the tight muscles of his chest against your back as he released his soft grip on your skin. “...who can read minds.” he continued knowingly, as your eyes widened. Fuck. “Agent, really...” he growled playfully; his eyes narrowing, “this kind of flagrant objectification is so unlike you.” He circled in front as you fumbled with your bag, holding the door as your teammates traipsed past deep in oblivious conversation.

Loki cast a glance around the room, leaning forward just enough that you caught a hit of cologne wafting from his warm skin. The sight of his neck muscles flexing at the stretching motion almost made your knees buckle. Keep it together for fuck’s sake, you chided yourself as his eyes found you again, looking down with unconcealed amusement. “On the contrary, darling...I’m counting on quite the opposite” he murmured, drawing one of those long fingers across your cheek, brushing against your parted lips with a wink. “If this is the effect that such an inconsequential part of my anatomy such as my jawline has on you, darling- I cannot wait for you to experience the rest.” He leaned forwards. “I’ll let you into a little secret, shall I?” Loki whispered, as your breaths grew short. “Me kneeling. My partner, straddled on top for me to control their pleasure. That is my favourite position.” You swallowed, as he continued. “And yes, I do find myself throwing my head back when I am...overcome with passion. I do hope that’s alright.” he said casually, smirking. Words deserted you as you nodded dumbly. “Excellent” he purred, withdrawing from where he hovered. The sharp lines of his cheekbones flashed as he turned towards the door, the straight edge of his chin begging to be worshipped without shame. “Eight o’clock?” he postured cheerfully, pausing in the doorway, “I know a nice bar not far from here. And, Agent…?” Loki paused dramatically, raising an eyebrow as he watched you blinking mutely against the wall with your mouth hanging slightly open. “Try not to become too aroused by thoughts of my jawline in the meantime. I prefer my dates un-expired, preferably. It makes for more interesting conversation.” You took several deep breaths as you heard his footsteps depart, soft chuckles echoing in the empty hall.

-🤷‍♀️

Tags --@lokischambermaid @mochie85 @thedistractedagglomeration @xorpsbane @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @yelkmelk @lokiprompts @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @holdmytesseract @ravenwings73 @mischief2sarawr @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @loopsisloops @fictive-sl0th @ladymischief11 @lady-rose-moon @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @sititran @skymoonandstardust @anonymousfiction211 @nerdy-fangirl-65 @five-miles-over @handsaroundmyneck @gigglingtigger @daggers-and-mischief @mistress-ofmagic @trickster-maiden @animnerd @thomase1 @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @ladylovesloki @fictional-hooman @ozymdias @loki-laufeyson-1054 @123forgottherest @maple-seed @peacefulpianist @lokislilkitten @kats72 @cakesandtom @your-taste-on-my-lips @trojanaurora @chantsdemarins

#the way I screamed #this was so funny #because reader was so relatable #I too would expire if Loki teased me like this

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coralstories · 4 months

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The topic of this writing challenge is "Your character's relationship ends" (romantic or platonic). Your challenge is to write an angst piece. It can involve a permanent end to a relationship or an end followed by a reconciliation. Your character is Bilbo!

(This probably isn’t quite what you pictured me writing for this, but it was the thing that came to mind immediately for Bilbo and is definitely a bit angsty and sad)

A deep friendship had all came to an abrupt end, cut short by anger and hatred. Thorin Oakenshield had perished at Ravenhill, leaving Bilbo wondering what their friendship would have become beyond that. Would it have deepened further still? Surely with Thorin’s lineage being that of Dwarf royalty, he would have been entirely faithful through all the years they would have had side by side as allies, friends, confidants.

Bilbo often dreamed of Thorin, picturing again and again the scene of his death, their hands entwined.

“I wish to part from you in friendship.” Those words always made Bilbo wake from his slumber and he would stare into the diminishing embers of the previous night’s fire and picture Thorin standing there, pipe smoke circling and his deep, haunting voice singing a sad melody of the destruction Smaug had caused.

The hobbit wore his mithril shirt for some time after returning to Bag End. Surely he could have gotten a fortune for it and re-brought all of his belongings which had been sold at auction upon his assumed death. But in his heart, Bilbo knew that his one gift from the rightful King of Erebor would always serve as a reminder of what had been lost.

Over the years, Bilbo would receive word from the other Dwarves whom he had travelled with. Balin would often sent a letter by raven, asking Bilbo if he would like to meet and have afternoon tea. But Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to agree to the invitation, because the closest friend of all the Dwarves was not there. He would never be there. All Thorin would ever be was a legend told by Dwarves around the campfire, or maybe at the annual Durin’s Day celebrations in Erebor’s fine halls and the people within the mountain would raise a tankard to the King whom had brought them home.

Bilbo’s adventures remained undocumented for many years. Each time he picked up his quill, ready to put ink onto parchment, a deep uneasiness would rest in his gut. Not yet. Maybe another day. Maybe when the pain had truly gone. But would it ever go? Would Bilbo ever feel he had completely grieved for Thorin Oakenshield?

Frodo would question his uncle, asking if he was alright when the older hobbit would sit outside Bag End, smoking after nightfall. The smell of pipe smoke always made him return to the night he had met Thorin.

One day, finally, Bilbo, at the grand age of eleventy-one, picked up his quill and began to write. He had not dreamed of Thorin in quite some time, and the memories, although still within his mind, did not feel the need to haunt him quite so regularly.

It was time. The whole world would finally know of Thorin Oakenshield and the bravery, loyalty and honour he held within his heart.

For a second, Bilbo pondered how to begin his story and then it came to him.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit….

********************************

Masterlist here

TAG LISTS

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83@deepestfirefun@nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991@blankdblank@captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass@patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972@bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan@captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp@adaliamalfoy@spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl@here2have-fun@xxbyimm @greendragonette @littlebird54 @thophil2941btw@princessoferebor94@banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @rachel1959@gabrielelaufeyson @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged@tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @alae-megallen @tschrist1@inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator@princessofthefandomrealm@letsbeinspiredby @lilith15000 @lealina-scarsdale@scarsfanfictiontrash@mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @lembas-and-wine @ra-of-light @jassy2101@durinsqueen @hariclea @sherala007 @onewithleaf

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @exhausted-human-being @samara-marty-art

Hobbit tag list: @fentah @hails270105 @princess-of-erebor1992 @online-imagines-reader @emrfangirl @fountainsofsilver

Anything Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy @legolaslovely

#masterful

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coralstories · 11 months

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Sticky

MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2.4K

Synopsis: Peter Parker loves to play with fun gadgets he finds around the Stark tower. Especially when it comes from an alien space ship. Which is exactly how you end up completely pressed to the ceiling of Peters room without knowing when you’ll come down.

Warnings: Smut!! Oral (f receiving), P in V, language, probably disappointing Mr. Stark

AN: lightly edited

Peter bursts through his bedroom door at the speed of light. “Y/N! Y/N!” Peter shouts, his eyes scanning his room for any signs of life. You peak your head out from under the covers, a small smile forming on your tired face.

“Hey Peter,” you mumble sleepily, snuggling your head into Peter’s pillow. “You’re home from Stark Towers already?” You hum groggily.

Peter shuffles over to his bed, plopping down next to your curled-up figure. “Mr. Stark helped me design new web shooters and-and I wanted to show you them,” Peter beams. A soft smile spreads across your face as you watch Peter shuffle around inside the black bag he brought home.

“Ah, damnit.” Peter mumbles pulling out some sort of gun filled with lava pink liquid. “I brought home the wrong bag. This is the anti gravity stick gun.” Peter frowns.

Your eyes shoot open wide, the aspect of an anti gravity sticky gun intriguing you. “Did you say anti gravity? Your smile widens as you sit up fully to take a look at the gun in Peter’s hand.

“Yeah, but we can’t you know…use it.” Peter laughs as he goes to put the gun back in the bag. Your hand is quick to stop his, wrestling the gun out of his grip. “Y/N/N, no, we can’t,” Peter pleas with you. “If Mr. Stark find out he’ll have my suit!” His words mean nothing to you in this moment, you’re too busy examining the cool piece of alien tech that Peter “accidentally” brought home.

“There’s no way you ‘accidentally’ brought this home, you were totally messing around with Tony’s gadgets again weren’t you!” A smirk tugs at your lips as you continue to examine the bright pink liquid.

Peter groans, throwing himself back on the bed. “Okay! So I got sticky fingers and was messing with some of Mr. Stark’s stuff. But I really did accidentally bring it home! I had two identical bags, one with the anti-gravity gun and the other with my webshooter upgrades. Bruce just walked into the lab and I got scared and threw the gun back into the bag and without thinking took off with the wrong bag…” Peter babbles.

“Wicked,” you grin, pointing the gun at Peter. “So if I shoot you with this…”

“No no, I shot a flowerpot to the ceiling and it was still stuck up there when I left, I was playing with the gun for over an hour.” He replies sternly.

You let out a small laugh “Oh, so I’m definitely sticking your sticky ass to the ceiling.” You’re still pointing the gun at Peter when he goes to take it back from you. As you wrestle for the gun, a beam of light shoots out of it and the next thing you know you’re on Peter’s ceiling.

“Y/N!” Peter squeaks. Your whole body is pressed up into the ceiling, limbs completely frozen. Arms and legs both slightly spread out. “Um, shit what do we do?” Peter looks at the gun again as if there will be directions written on the outside explaining how to reverse the effects.

“I feel like I’m not even allowed to be mad,’ You let out a laugh, looking down at a panicking Peter. “This is actually really cool, I feel so firm.”

“Y/N, this is not the time to be messing around, we need to get you down.” Peter’s face is pale and sweaty as he examines your body being pressed against his ceiling by some weird alien magic. His eyes wander from how silly your hair looks fluffing out, down to how nice your figure looks, completely trapped and unable to move. Peter tries pushing the thought away, hating his sudden urge to crawl up on the ceiling with you and experience what its like to make you scream while you’re stuck. That’s when it hits him, “I’m coming up with you, I’ll see if I can pry you off the ceiling okay?”

You scrunch your face up at his words, not liking that he’s making you come down already. “Come on Peter, this is so cool. See if you can move my limbs into different positions first.” Peter disappears from your view for a moment before he’s hovering… below you?

“Why do you insist on making things difficult by messing around?”

“Because.” You state simply. Peter rolls his eyes, gently tugging at your arm. Your arm easily swings forward before quickly being pulled back to the ceiling. “Whoa, do that again it felt weird. I feel like my whole body is ten times more sensitive right now.”

Peter pulls your arm again, it comes forward before reattaching to the ceiling, his mind racing from your words. He can’t help but wonder if your whole body is more sensitive. “We need to get you down now.” He urges, knowing that if you’re up here any longer he won’t be able to help himself. It was always a fantasy of his to fuck you on the ceiling, or high up on a wall. He just never trusted himself enough to go through with it. But now that you were already up here, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to start fucking you senseless.

“Peter, earth to Peter Parker,” you coo, trying to get your boyfriends attention.

Peter blinks, refocusing his gaze onto yours, “sorry, sorry I was just thinking.” His face flushes red as he begins to crawl down to your legs.

“You couldn’t have been normal and gone around my body? You had to crawl over me didn’t you?” You ask, watching has Peter’s body hovers over yours on his way down to try and unstick your feet permanently. “Your dick is in my face, and it’s hard.” You mumble, a blush spreading across your face now.

“S-shit sorry!” Peter tries to move out of your face by backing up, only to find he’s made it worse by dropping his hips too low and smacking you in the face with his boner.

Your body begins to shake with laughter, “Ow, I just got a face full of sweatpants dick.”

Peter freezes, hoping down from the ceiling completely. “I don’t think I’m getting you down.” He admits, his face was a brighter red than before as he looks up at you.

You let out a small hum, looking down at your embarrassed boyfriend. “Well, you got any ideas how we can pass the time?”

“I won’t admit anything.” Peter replies, quickly adverting his gaze.

“That made absolutely no sense dork, do you have any ideas or not?”

“None that I’m willing to admit.” He continues to avoid your gaze, focusing only on the closet door.

“You should come up here and fuck me then,” you tease, eyeing his still obvious boner.

Peter’s face goes pale, looking up at you again. “Does the gun give you the ability to read minds too?”

A laugh erupts from your chest a you goto shake your head ‘no,’ only to realize you can’t. “No Peter, I can’t read minds but I can read the message your massive boner sent me while it was in my face.”

“That’s not funny, you scared me. I thought you could tell what I was thinking and that you’d start yelling at me for thinking about how good your boobs look in such a dire situation.” Peter pauses, realizing he just admitted exactly what he didn’t want you to know. “Never mind, don’t listen to me ever again.”

“You think my boobs look good?” You beam.

“Stop.” Peter warns, feeling his blush return.

“Oh my god Parker, just get up here and fuck me.” You groan. Peter hesitates for a moment before giving you a small nod and jumping up onto the ceiling. He starts at your legs, repositioning them so your feet are pressing against the ceiling while your knees are bent. Once he’s got you properly repositioned, you feel him crawling between your legs. “Peter…what are you doing?” You can feel his hands grabbing onto your pajama shorts.

“Fucking you, like you asked so kindly.” A smirk settles on Peters face as he rips your pajama shorts down the middle seam, watching as they fall off your body and to the ground.

“Peter!” You cry, looking down at your now torn shorts.

“Well I had to get them off you!” Peter defends, slowly ripping your underwear off you as well. You let out a gasp as the cool air hits your heat, feeling your whole body flush under Peters warm touch, “Tank-top is next.” He smirks, tearing open the fabric to reveal your bare chest. The cold air washes over your, making you shiver as much as the magic would let you. Peter grabs your wrists, guiding your arms so they’re pinned above your head. “Is this what you want pretty girl?” He hums against your neck. His lips slowly leaving a trail of kisses down your body.

You let out a sharp moan “Y-yes,” his lips causing you to completely forget about your torn cloths on the ground. He continues to kiss down your neck until he reaches your tits. His right hand gently creasing the swell of your breast making you let out another moan. Leaning down, Peter brought your hard nipple into his mouth. Another moan escapes your lips as you fight to press your chest into Peters face, but with no success. You’re completely stuck, unable to move. Peter smirks against your boob at the attempt, continuing to swirl his tongue around your extremely sensitive nipple. “Fuck Peter,” you groan, wanting more than anything to run your fingers through his soft brown curls. Peter switches over to your other tit, giving the other nipple some attention as well.

The room fills with your soft moans as Peter kisses his way down your body and to your hot cunt. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his bottom lip down your thigh and back to your aching cunt. His head dips between your legs as you feel his tongue slowly slipping between your folds. The tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit, gently swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to let out a throaty moan. Peter’s arms slide around your thighs, pulling your body closer ever so slightly as he continues to eat you out. His face buried in your soft cunt, lick and sucking on your swollen clit.

A knot begins to form in your stomach within a few seconds and your realize just how sensitive your body really feels. The feeling of Peters mouth pleasuring you makes your body a shaking mess against the ceiling. Your limbs feel like they’re on fire as pleasure courses through your whole body. Pressing your head against the ceiling as hard as you could, you feel your orgasm wash over you. A sharp cry escapes your lips, your whole body convulsing from your release.

Peter slowly comes up from your cunt, a smile plastered on his face. “I see someone enjoyed that a little too much.” He teases, placing a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small groan in response, your whole body still pulsating. You keep your eyes on Peter as he begins to strip from his sweatpants and white T-shirt. His abs flexing as he miraculously manages to strip while still on the ceiling.

“Look at my sticky boy,” you giggle as you admire the way the light makes his abs appear to glow.

Peter grins, crawling over, well under, your body and positioning his hips between your thighs. “I’m about to make you real sticky.” You raise your eyebrow at his comment, noticing the cheeky grin on his face. “You ready?” He asks, his hand slipping between your bodies to position himself.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling Peter slides into you slowly. The sensation of Peter thrusting up into you is completely foreign and completely surreal. Your body bounces ever so slightly up against the ceiling and you feel as though you could fall at any moment.

Yet, your body stays put, allowing for Peter’s hips to snap up into yours. His thrusts are sloppy and deep, feeling out your new position. A sigh escapes your lips as Peter leans up to kiss along your neck.

“How does this feel baby?” He whispers softly in your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, all of your muscles contracting at the hot breath on your ear and neck. “It feels so good Peter,” you moan softly, desperately wishing you could wrap your arms around his neck. Peter gives you a warm smile, kissing your cheek as his pace speeds up. His thrusts becoming more even and deep, fucking you straight up and into the cold ceiling.

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Trick?” You laugh, watching as Peter detaches his hands from the ceiling, leaving him on just his knees. He looks up at you with a smirk, gripping onto your thighs as he continues to fuck you at an inhuman speed. His nails digging into your soft skin as he hangs upside down thrusting into you.

You close your eyes, letting out a string of moans, loving the way he feels deep inside of you. “Fuck Peter, I’m close again.” You felt like you were on fire, your whole body overly sensitive to Peter’s touch and rough thrusts.

“Do it then” Peter grunts, his cock sliding in and out of you even harder. You push your head up into the ceiling, mouth falling open as another wave of intense pleasure hits you, throwing you completely over the edge. A scream escapes your lips followed by Peters name as you come down from your high.

Peter lets out a deep moan, throwing his body back up so his hands were once again sticking to the wall. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, thrusting deeper and deeper before pulling out quickly. Hot spurts of cum shooting out and falling back down onto Peter’s stomach and chest.

“Fucking gravity,” Peter groans.

You burst out laughing at Peter’s scrunched up face. “I told you that you were my sticky boy.” You tease. Peter grumbles something under his breath and you let out another laugh.

Your eyes widen only seconds later when you notice you suddenly feel heavier than normal. Your body detaches from the ceiling sending both you and Peter tumbling down onto his bed. “Great now I’m sticky too,” you groan.

Peter smirks, “Told you I’d get you sticky.”

+++

TAGLIST

#HAHAHAHA sticky boy

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coralstories · 11 months

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The Little Green Handkerchief- a Loki/F!Reader One Shot

You and your lover have a special signal for when he comes home from war and you aren’t awake to greet him.

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Mistress!Reader Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI Content Warning: smut, fully-consensual somnophilia, F!receiving oral, a mote of sleep magic Word Count: 1.3k

The hour grew late that cool, heavy evening, and you were still waiting for your lover.

You’d made sure you were sufficiently bathed in Loki’s favorite lavender scent, the oils still giving your bare skin a sheen in the flickering firelight. You’d wrapped yourself in the loosest satin robe you could find, tousled your hair wildly about your shoulders and chest (the way he liked it), and settled into your bed with a book, hoping sleep would come quickly to mask your excitement at your lover coming home from battle, after weeks of setbacks.

This had been the longest campaign yet against the denizens of the Dark World, and Loki, along with his brother, father, and all of the other soldiers of Asgard, had been away for the better part of four moon cycles. The entire kingdom’s mood was one of longing. When it was heard that a rogue band of elves had ambushed Loki’s battalion, and Thor rushed to his brother’s aid, winning the fight but being delayed by weeks as a result, it was as if the collective shoulders of Asgard all sank with sadness, yours most of all.

Privately, you were hoping he’d return before sleep took you, but alas, your eyelids became heavy after only an hour passed. Smiling and sighing, you arose from the bed to retrieve something from the armoire in the corner: a small, dark green gossamer handkerchief, sitting among its brothers of all hues. You smiled wickedly and plucked it out, taking it to your bedside table and placing it on top of your book, conspicuously dangling off its edge.

Then, you stoked your fireplace to turn the heat up before lying casually on top of the heavy comforter, choosing to instead barely cover your body with a light lap blanket instead.

If he came home in the dark hours of the morning while you slumbered, you were ready for him anyway, as you ever were…

It was impossible to fathom that the others, including Thor, were planning on playing drinking games until dawn to celebrate their triumphant return.

It was just after midnight, and Loki took no issue in turning down Thor’s invitation, his muscles aching from the residual damage done to him in battle, only newly-healed. He’d had no time to rest them before needing to head out to Asgard, only to be stopped again by brigands.

Only one thing could heal his pain tonight, and that was the feeling of your warm, tender flesh pressed against his scars.

He knew you’d be waiting for him in your chambers, which were located just off of his own. Asgard tradition dictated that a prince could only share a room with his wife, but a beloved mistress could certainly find a way around that law by claiming a small closet off to the side as her own, as you had. It was a trick that had been employed by royal favorites for millennia. You and Loki were only the latest pair to exploit this loophole.

Loki walked swiftly to his chambers. He couldn’t get to your bed fast enough.

When he finally opened the double-doors leading to your bedroom, he was greeted by the image of pale yellow light flickering on your naked skin originating from the fireplace. You’d kicked aside the furs and comforters while you’d fallen asleep, spread-eagled on the bed, a tiny satin robe doing nothing to conceal you. The room was warm, and sweat was just beginning to bead on your flesh.

He gasped in awe at the sight as he stood in the doorway, stunned by the exquisite beauty in your candid slumber. His eye darted to the nightstand, and the moment he saw the green scarf tucked under your book, a grin unwrapped on his face.

“Oh, lovely,” he purred devilishly.

Almost immediately, he felt himself begin to harden under his armor, and it only took a snap for him to instantly remove it with his magic, leaving him bare as the day he was born.

Slowly crawling over to the bed, he observed your stilled body for a moment before taking a single index finger to your temple, tapping gently three times and whispering a few runes. This little spell of his drew you from your usual, uncommonly-deep sleep into something closer to lucidity. You were still undoubtedly unconscious, but at least if something felt wrong as Loki claimed his prize, coming out of slumber would be easier for you, and signaling him would be far quicker a task.

“If only I could slip into those dreams of yours, my dear,” he whispered out loud, but at the volume of a hummingbird’s flight. “I know when you lie here, you paint fantastic tapestries of adventures you long to have with me…’tis a shame my mind-reading gifts are only limited to waking thoughts. But…what do we do in your dreams?”

Loki climbed onto the mattress, positioning himself in between your spread legs, your cunt open for the world to see (were the world standing before your bed now). Taking a soft finger, he began to dreamily trace the outer lips of your pussy, causing only the slightest quake in your belly. “The threshold to my most needy center,” he mused to himself, “Valhalla waits behind this fleshy gate for me…”

He used two more fingers to trace a deeper shape into your labia, then, smiling mischievously, he tapped on the small, swelling button at the top of your center. Every ‘tap’ made your hips buck, barely noticeable, but certainly enough to drive a hungry god wild. Loki couldn’t control his lust, seeing how well you responded to his playful fingers even in sleep.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. Even when your body slumbers, it calls out to me in desperation, craving to fill it with pleasure…”

He took his whole hand and palmed your cunt, pressing harder, massaging you rhymically until your hips began subconsciously joining his tempo.

Just watching your pathetic, needy body responding to his touch made Loki lose control of his faculties.

Norns, she makes me foam at the mouth like a rabid wolf! I’ll need a bib if I want to taste my beloved and not ruin her sheets…

Chuckling lowly, he suddenly let his own thoughts motivate him to crouch low, hungry, feral, a feast no more than two inches in front of his eye. He unfurled his tongue, letting the very tip of it taste your essence as it drew circles around your clit, then up and down the insides of your labia.

You uttered a small, subconscious groan of agreement, your head bobbing to the side, shifting your hips.

That little coo you gave. That did it for Loki.

“Oh, Princess,” he moaned in aching desire, bracing himself by lacing your legs over his shoulders, “I’d never go away to war again if I could only taste your nectar every single night…”

As he dove to savor your drenched cunt, he couldn’t see the subtle smile poking at the corner of your lips. Did this god who could read minds really not know that you’d been awake for several minutes, feigning sleep so that Loki could have his way with you in the manner that most aroused him?

Whether he did or not, it did not matter now. All that did was that Loki was in your bed again, and lacing his fingers in between yours as he consumed your arousal, lapping it up like wine, licking it greedily from his lips as he came up for air.

Internally, you decided not to fully awaken yourself, and to just lie back and let the Prince ravish your body with his tongue inch-by-inch, hour-by-hour, as the night progressed toward a new day.

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coralstories · 11 months

Text

same side of the coin.

NWH! Rough! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader x Tom Holland

Summary: After Dr. Strange's spell goes awry, more than just villains and other spiderman's come through the rift between the multiverses. Peter is at his wit's end, and after his fight with Green Goblin, Peter doesn't care that his celebrity counterpart is in the room...

A/N: So I changed the timeline a bit to where Peter met the other spidermen just a bit earlier before the villains showed themselves. I know it's a significant change, but it's for plot purposes honestly.

Genre: Erotica, Angst, Slight Fluff Rated: Explicit Warning: Smut, 18+, p in v sex, rough sex, angry sex, rough! peter, tom is a perv, voyeurism, exhibitionism, choking, unprotected sex, Canon Divergent plotline, doggy style, missionary, wall sex, dirty talk, peter is fuckin filthy and ANGRY

Author: ScariusAquarius

MINORS/AGELESS/BLANKS DO NOT INTERACT

It was strange to look into the eyes of someone who wasn't Peter Parker. While the man on your couch looked every bit of Peter Parker, it was almost glaringly obvious how much he actually wasn’t Peter.

When the whole ordeal with Dr. Strange’s spell going haywire because of Peter’s constant changing of the spell had occurred, the rift between the multiverse had completely deteriorated. Villains from other realities were sucked into your universe along with other versions of Peter ...and with the other Peter’s had tagged along the strange enigma that was Tom Holland.

It had been strange to come across the man who you had thought was Peter at first, but found out very quickly that he very much was not your Peter.

It was late in the night; the city had mostly gone to sleep. Peter had sucked himself into trying to find the villains that had come through the rift along with the two other Peter’s that had gotten sucked into your reality, and with him being gone, you had gotten restless and decided to get a late night snack from the local convenience store just down the street from your apartment that had a little fast food stand that was open 24/7.

You hadn’t exactly been paying too much attention to your surroundings when you got inside the store, but when you saw a familiar head of brown hair standing at the counter and speaking softly to the owner, you had become extremely confused.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

The man had stiffened, turning around with surprised brown eyes, and you were staring right at your boyfriend. You squinted slightly, confused as you stepped close and spoke to him softly so that the owner, Chavez, wouldn’t hear you.

“Peter, I thought you were on patrol for those villains?”

Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, staring at you with a shocked expression before his mouth began to move.

“Um, I’m terribly sorry, love, but I’m…not actually Peter.”

You were dumbfounded by the way he spoke, the British accent catching you off-guard, and you would have laughed had the current circumstances not led you to believe the man.

“Wait, are you….are you like a…different Peter?”

The man looked around to see if it was clear, and he spoke softly to you with a worried and….confused expression.

“No, it’s…it’s going to sound absolutely bonkers, but I…My name is Tom. I portray Peter in the movies.”

In the movies? Not-Peter, or Tom as he had called himself, stared at you, seeming to gauge your reaction, and you asked him with a raised brow.

“In the movies? Like….like an actor?”

Tom nodded his head vigorously, eyes seeming to light up in a way that instantly reminded you of Peter.

“Yes, exactly! In my reality, Peter is just a character that I portray. I…I was actually filming when something happened. I…I just ended up here.”

You were dumbfounded before you took out your phone and began typing in Peter’s number. Tom looked confused as to what you were doing before you placed the phone up to your ear.

“Hello? (Y/n)? Are you okay? What happened?”

Peter’s voice was borderline frantic, and you almost felt bad about calling him so randomly before you muttered, Tom’s eyes widening slightly.

“Um, Peter? I…I think I found another one of…well, you. He says he’s not you, but he looks literally just like you.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Peter finally spoke.

“I’m on the way. Where are you?”

“Well, I’m actually at Chavez’s convenience store. I got hungry waiting for you. Do you….want me to take him to my place while we wait for you?”

Tom was shifting from foot to foot, looking slightly anxious as he watched and listened, and Peter finally spoke after a moment.

“Yes, that’s fine. I’m about ten minutes away.”

“Okay. I’ll be here. I love you.”

Tom’s eyebrows shot up in shock, making you frown at him with a questioning look as you continued to stare each other down.

“I love you too.”

Peter hung up, and when you put your phone down, Tom blurted out.

“Love you? Are you and Peter…together?”

You became even more confused, asking as you tilted your head.

“Yes, why? Is…um, does my character not fall in love with him or something?”

Tom looked conflicted on whether or not he wanted to indulge you before sighing.

“Darling, you don’t even exist in my reality.”

And that was how you found yourself sitting across from Tom in deafening silence back in your apartment. During the time that he had been there, Tom had explained all there was to know about his universe and how Peter was just a comic book character that got turned into movies, which was why Peter looked the way that he did to you (and why the other Peter’s looked vastly different).

Tom had, thankfully, only slightly touched up on the fact that you didn’t exist. You weren’t a comic character, didn’t have an actress counterpart, nor any other multiverse you. You were simply an enigma in a world full of endless possibilities.

And somehow, that wasn’t even the slightest bit comforting.

So, you and Tom had elected to sit in awkward and stiff silence until Peter was crawling through your apartment window. His eyes were immediately on Tom, and Tom looked starstruck to see his doppelganger right in front of him. Peter, though cautious, carefully stepped around him and gazed at you.

His gaze was tired; a hollow reflection within his deep brown eyes that betrayed his façade of composure. Peter was subtly shaking; fists clenching and unclenching slightly, and it was almost saddening to you how angry and upset he seemed to be.

But this had become the new norm since the whole ordeal with Mysterio had begun: constant stress and tension that never seemed to leave Peter’s body. He was trying desperately to hold it together, and it only made you soften your gaze as you stared up at the young man. Peter asked you softly.

“Are you alright? Have you eaten anything yet?”

His hand reached for yours, and you quietly intertwined your fingers together as you nodded, feeling almost shy by the way Tom was watching you two with acute interest.

“I’m okay, and yes, I’ve eaten. I bought Tom and I sandwiches…your sandwich is in the fridge right now.”

At the mention of the man’s name, Peter frowned and turned around to gaze at Tom. They seemed to stare at one another; sizing each other up before Peter asked him.

“Who are you, exactly?”

Tom straightened up a bit, looking almost…excited…to be speaking with Peter.

“My name is Tom. I…In my reality, I’m an actor that portrays you.”

Peter looked caught off guard by the British accent, and you couldn’t help but giggle, whispering to Peter.

“I know, the accent caught me off guard too.”

Tom looked sheepish as Peter glanced at you before he looked back at Tom and then back at you. You murmured softly, placing your hand on Peter’s bicep.

“You’ll have to let Dr. Strange know about Tom. If he’s here, there’s no telling who else could have gotten through. You gotta go see Strange, Peter.”

Peter’s shoulders tensed, and he turned to you, shaking his head slightly as his eyes closed.

“I know, I just…I just really, really need a break.”

Your heart broke at the way Peter seemed to shrink in on himself, and you held him close, whispering as he gathered you up in his arms.

“I know you do, baby. Why don’t you stay here tonight? Peter 2 and Peter 3 can take care of themselves…and I’m sure Ned wouldn’t mind probing the two of them with all sorts of questions to keep them busy.”

Peter was tempted; absolutely enthralled by the idea of just taking the night to himself, but he knew it wasn’t pliable. As long as those villains were out there, you and his friends were at risk, and Peter wasn’t ready to put you in danger. Peter bit his lip and stepped back, shaking his head.

“I want to…I want to so badly, but I…I can’t. I can’t rest knowing those people are still out there…As long as they’re around, you’re at risk. I….I don’t want to lose you too.”

His eyes were shining; glassy with unshed tears, and you felt your heart break all over again. You placed a hand on Peter’s cheek, his hand immediately covering it, and you said sternly.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, I am not going anywhere. By the good graces of God, you are stuck with me whether you like it or not. Consider me like a piece of web you can’t get off for the life of you.”

Peter couldn’t help but to softly laugh, shaking his head as he stared at you before the man softly asked.

“What would I do without you, my sticky little webster?”

You shrugged and replied in a deadpan tone.

“Crash and burn, probably.”

You giggled before kissing his lips, his shoulders immediately relaxing, and you whispered against his mouth.

“Go save the world, Spidey. I’ll handle your British devil just fine.”

Peter looked reluctant to leave you with Tom, but he knew he had to do it. Deep down, Peter knew that you could handle yourself, he just didn’t know if he trusted his doppelganger. Because of that notion, Peter turned and gave Tom a hard look.

“Listen, if anything happens to (Y/n)...if you get any funny ideas, I won’t hesitate to hang you from the Statue of Liberty by your underwear, got it?”

It had meant to come off as threatening, but you couldn’t help but to chuckle, Peter giving you an exasperated look while Tom nodded.

“You have my word, mate.”

Peter nodded before he looked over at you with a softened gaze.

“I love you. Please…please call me if anything happens. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

You nodded, replying back gently as Peter slipped his mask back on.

“I love you. Be safe.”

Peter slipped out of your window without another word, and you and Tom were left standing awkwardly in the silence before you glanced over at him with a questioning expression.

“Um…do you like board games?”

+++

For over two hours, you and Tom had played Monopoly, exchanging questions and answers with every roll of the dice. In return for you answering questions about his universe, you answered his questions about your verse. It was strange speaking to him at first; still not used to seeing Peter’s face and hearing a British voice instead, but you found that Tom’s charismatic demeanor was comforting.

It reminded you of the Peter you had fallen in love with before everything had gone to shit, and because of that, it was easy to like Tom. He was naturally very good at strategy, you had learned, as he had bought almost half of the properties on the board; even the blue ones, before you could even make your first official walk around the board.

When you and Tom had reached a stalemate, you huffed and placed the rest of your money on the board before asking him.

“So…I….I really don’t exist where you’re from?”

Tom shook his head, almost looking apologetic.

“No, you don’t. I honestly was very surprised when you came up to me and calling me Peter at the store. I was trying to figure out who you were, but you were never a character in the comic books, let alone the movies. I don’t know anybody who looks like you…but now I kind of wish I did.”

He was naturally flirty, so much so that it had your ears burning, and you shook your head at him before looking away.

“It’s…it’s so weird to hear someone say that I don’t exist anywhere else but here. It makes me wonder if…if maybe I’m a ... .a glitch or something.”

Tom was surprised before he stated gently, leaning forward slightly.

“Darling, I’m sure there’s an explanation. Your presence, whether an absolute enigma or not, is still important. While…while this universe is slightly different from what I’m used to, I can tell you that your presence must mean something. You and Peter…it’s so natural that it makes me second guess why you don’t have a counterpart in my world.”

Your cheeks became hot, and you muttered as you sat back against the couch.

“You flatter me too much, and you’ll be hanging by your underwear soon.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t very creative, wasn’t it?”

You both chuckled before you yawned and stood up. Tom stared at you for a moment with a questioning glance; almost as if he was questioning where to sleep, and you gestured to the couch.

“You can sleep here. I don’t have an air mattress nor an extra bedroom….and Peter would probably get grumpy if I let you sleep in our bed. I have a ton of extra pillows and blankets though, so just let me know if you need them.”

Tom nodded and you glanced down at his jeans and nice button-up, humming.

“I’m sure Pete wouldn’t mind if I let you borrow a pair of pajama bottoms or gym shorts, so let me grab those for you and let you get to bed. I’m sure you’re tired after the day you’ve had. I know I am.”

Tom chuckled before he thanked you softly.

“Thank you, love. I know this is probably very strange for you…definitely is for me.”

You nodded at him, giving him a soft look as you disappeared into the bedroom to grab a pair of pajamas for Tom.

“It’s not a problem, truly. Just….please don’t tell Peter about me not existing in your world. I’m afraid of what the news will do to him, honestly.”

Tom looked saddened by your words; as if you had just sprung a sword straight through his chest, and the man simply nodded once before vowing.

“I promise I won’t.”

And just like that, a whole new interesting week began.

+++

You and Tom got along surprisingly very well. Whereas his personality could be extroverted and excited, you were more docile and calm; simply listening to the boy rant about everything yet nothing at the same time. It was strangely reminiscent of Peter, which had brought you strange yet welcomed comfort.

Peter had stopped by often after Tom's arrival, not enjoying that there was another him in his shared flat with you but being unable to voice his discomfort due to the fact it was your generosity and his own fault that had Tom here in the first place.

Peter tried to keep you updated about everything since he didn't want you anywhere near the Sanctum Sanctorum as long as he had all the villains contained there. Peter had told you about his plan to cure these people, to save them from their fates before sending them home, and while you admired Peter's righteousness, you couldn't help but wonder if it would matter in the end.

You, in turn, told Peter about how your days spent with Tom were. You had actually taken him out of the apartment earlier in the week when Tom began to get cabin fever, and you practically boasted about how well Tom really portrayed Peter when out in the public eye.

It made Peter's skin crawl and his eyes turn green.

Peter didn't bother to voice his jealousy, but you could tell that Peter was envious of the man by the way Peter kissed you for a few more seconds, held you closer and tighter, and spoke huskily in your ear whenever Tom was immediately present.

But you couldn't deny that you liked this side of Peter.

But actions had consequences, and you were starting to add to Peter's stress.

A few days later, something went awry in Peter's plan. You weren’t exactly sure what it was, but when Tom showed you the Daily Bugle report broadcast and found out Aunt May was gone, you were distraught and worried for Peter beyond belief. You had begun pacing back and forth in front of the TV, phone in hand and desperately trying to get a hold of Peter with no luck.

Tom had retreated to the bathroom for just a moment when the front door practically burst from its hinges. It caused you to gasp and spin around in fright until you spotted Peter.

But Peter did not look alright.

There was a dark anger in his eyes; an acute dangerous gleam within those pretty browns you enjoyed gazing into during the late hours of the night, and you noticed how injured he was from his fight with the Green Goblin. Peter was frighteningly still, his breathing so quiet you were sure he was holding his breath, and he began stalking you like prey.

"Peter?"

He had crossed the room in no time, slamming you up against the wall and absolutely ravaging your lips like no other. His lips were cold, skin wet with blood, sweat, rain, and tears, and his suit was soaked through, steam subtly rising from how hot his body temperature was. Peter had slotted himself between your legs as one hand roughly clutched the back of your neck and the other painfully gripped your hip hard enough that you knew there would be bruises.

Tongues and teeth clashed for a moment as you melted into him, and Peter began to harshly suck and nip at your neck as his hand desperately shoved itself under your shirt to clutch at your chest and pinch a sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger.

"Ah, Peter…! We…we have a guest."

"Stop talking."

He hissed at you cruelly, voice raspy and dark with anger and despair, shutting you up with a rough kiss, and you held onto his shoulders shakily. Peter leaned down again, sucking hickies into your neck until the marks bled, and you whimpered loudly. Peter’s hand ghosted down your pants, fingers pressing against your warm cunt to find that you were absolutely soaked for him.

Peter froze his kisses, his gloved fingers still toying with your wet entrance as the boy slowly glared almost murderously over his shoulder towards the hallway where he knew Tom was standing, listening and watching with perverse interest. Peter couldn’t even care anymore. There was nothing holding him back; nothing that he cared about except you, and Peter turned back around to harshly bite at your collarbone.

"Peter…!"

You mewled when his fingers sunk into you, the digits curling and thrusting and twisting until you were shaking and bracing yourself against the wall for some type of leverage. Peter continued to thrust his fingers, grinding his hard-on against your leg for some friction as he finger-fucked your sopping cunt. A few more thrusts, and he became annoyed with your shirt covering your chest.

Peter pulled his fingers out of you to rip open your shirt into pathetic tatters. You gasped in surprise, eyes wide before you hissed as Peter began to roughly suckle and grope at your breasts. His mouth was hot, encasing your nipple and tongue flicking back and forth against the nub so fast that electricity was running down your spine.

You bit your lip, trying to contain your noises so Tom wouldn't hear you, and Peter's eyes looked at you; that same dangerous darkness swirling in them as before.

If looks could kill, you were sure that you would be dead 100 times over.

Your lips parted, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth, and Peter let your breasts go to hiss into your lips, tearing your shorts and underwear apart roughly and making you whimper.

"Don't you dare be quiet. I don't give a damn who hears. I need you."

Your eyes were wide, and Peter fumbled with his suit slightly as he moved as fast as he could to get it off. His black briefs were tented, a dark wet spot showing his evident arousal and need, and you gently cupped his cock through his underwear; palming and gripping him through the material. Peter immediately groaned before he slammed your hands up against the wall, growling.

"Keep those fucking hands there until I tell you to move them."

His dominance was so sudden and new; a vast void filled with nothing but unashamed desire and all-consuming lust that gave him absolutely no inhibitions. It seemed that Aunt May's death had driven Peter to a point of no return with his rage and stress, and he had finally snapped, but you did not fault him for it.

Instead, you desperately pleaded with him within a breathless whimper, voice quiet and knowing all-too-well that a , well, Peeping Tom was staring at you both with a macabre curiosity that had your sopping cunt gushing with need.

"Peter, please….please kiss me."

Peter's lips immediately crashed into yours, and you moaned into his lips as he shoved his briefs down and let his red, swollen, and leaking cock bounce out of its cotton prison. Peter was all over you, smothering you and keeping you tucked into his body so close that you realized he was shielding you as he forced you to wrap your legs around his waist. Did he realize what he was doing? Did he realize he was trying to protect you from some unseen force?

You didn't have any time to contemplate because Peter was already slipping inside of you and stretching you so deliciously that you couldn't help but moan out his name and clench your fists. You took them off the wall to clutch at his hair, and Peter pulled back immediately, his hand going to your throat and squeezing.

"What did I say?"

He was controlling the situation; trying to grasp that last sense of stability he had, and you were playing a very dangerous game. You knew you had to keep your hands on the wall until Peter said otherwise…but you couldn’t help but wonder how much you could push him before he finally snapped completely.

And Peter knew that.

His hips were brutal as he fucked you, keeping a firm hold of your throat with one hand and clutching your wrists in the other. His lips were brushing against yours, not quite kissing you but just close enough for your hot breath to ghost against his mouth. Peter was glaring down at you, jaw clenched and eyes practically black as he fucked your poor hole.

You were mewling, eyes rolled into the back of your head as you arched and squirmed within his grasp, and Peter moved his hand from your throat to clutch at your knee. He maneuvered it over his shoulder, angling his hips so he had the perfect angle, and you cried out his name desperately.

"Peter!"

"You're so goddamn gorgeous, taking my cock like this, baby."

His voice was low and dangerous and so hot, and you pushed against his hand that had your wrists pinned against the wall. Peter tightened his grip for a moment before slipping out of you. You whined from the empty feeling before gasping as Peter spun you around and slammed you up against the wall once more. You splayed your hands out over the white paint, and groaned when Peter clutched at the hair at the back of your neck, locking his fingers into place and tugging.

Peter slipped back inside of you, and you cried out when Peter spanked your ass hard, your skin immediately feeling hot and stinging from the impact. Peter was towering over you, his chest pressed against your back and his voice was hot and low against your ear.

"I fuck you so good, don't I, baby?"

"Ah! Y-yes, Peter! Yes!"

You had tears in your eyes from how deep Peter's cock was reaching inside of you, feeling so full and legs already aching as Peter thrust inside of you. Your fingernails had scratched some of the paint off the wall long ago, but you didn't care.

You'd love to look at the marks and be reminded of the night Peter fucked you like an animal.

Peter was huffing and grunting, his balls slapping noisily against your skin, and you were still acutely aware of eyes on the two of you. A part of you felt embarrassed; ashamed, even, that Tom could hear and see everything happening…but there was another part, a dark and naughty part, that enjoyed the knowledge of Tom watching his doppelganger fuck you.

Was he getting off to it? Was he jerking his cock and taking notes? Did his cock look and feel the same as Peter’s?

Peter tugged harshly on your hair, making you cry out as he hissed quietly into your ear.

"You thinking of him or me, baby?"

"Y-you! Just you!"

Peter groaned in satisfaction before he pulled out and forced you over to the couch. He was primal; a predator on the hunt as he stalked you. Peter slotted between your legs, pushing back inside of you, and he brought you legs over his shoulders.

"Look at me."

His voice was rough and harsh, but there was an acute desperation within Peter's eyes that made you unable to look away. With your hands freed from his grip, you clutched at Peter's shoulders, whining.

"Fuck, gonna cum, Pete!"

The coil inside of you was tight; ready to burst at any moment, and Peter's voice took a tone of borderline mockery.

"Yeah, gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock, babe? I bet you want to so fucking bad, huh?"

You mewled, eyes squeezing shut as his voice sent you teetering on the edge. Peter immediately moved a hand down between your bodies, thumbing your clit and making you gasp and scream his name.

Peter watched with a dark expression, lips parted and shaky breaths leaving his lips as he kept thrusting. He bit his lip, watching his cock fuck your pussy, and he clutched at your breasts, squeezing and flicking your nipples. He was close as well, eyebrows furrowed, and Peter looked at all the marks he had left on your neck.

God, you were so fucking beautiful.

You were overstimulated, whimpering as you writhed and squirmed beneath him, but Peter was too far gone in his pleasure. Finally, after a few unsteady thrusts, Peter whimpered out your name, clutching your hands and intertwining them as he finally came. You could feel the warmth of his seed filling you, your lips parted in awe and ecstasy. Peter hovered over you, staring down at you as the anger and stress and despair rolled off his shoulders and dripped from his eyes.

You gently cupped his cheek, watching as his strong shell cracked to show the vulnerable boy beneath the armor he had carefully crafted. Peter leaned down, sensually kissing you and sucking on your tongue to make you squirm. You hummed softly before whispering only loud enough for Peter to hear.

"Peter?"

Peter gazed at you, pursing his lips slightly as he murmured against your lips.

"What is it?"

You whispered softly, clutching him close to you.

"I love you."

Peter held you close, eyes filling with tears as he replied brokenly and kept his head on your chest.

"I love you too. May…Aunt May is….is gone. I….I couldn't save her."

You ran your fingers through Peter’s hair, replying softly.

"It's not your fault, baby. You know May would have done anything for you if it meant that you were alright."

Peter shook his head, whispering.

"You don't understand. It's my fault that any of this happened…!"

You sat up, bringing Peter with you and the two of you hissing when Peter was forced to pull out of you.

"That may be true, but you can fix it. You've always been able to fix it. While….while we can't bring Aunt May back…what we can do is get those sons of bitches back to where they belong. Norman will not go unpunished, that I promise you."

Peter nodded slowly before he mumbled, a strange irritation settling within him.

"He watched the whole time, you know. I could feel him….just staring."

You were embarrassed but elected to smirk and whisper into Peter's ear.

"Good. I liked that a lot…and I sure wouldn't mind giving our lovely friend a rerun."

Peter blushed before glancing at you, looking unsure as he gazed at all the dark hickies and bruises he had left on your neck.

"Are you…are you sure I didn't go too far? I…I was losing control there. I didn't want to actually hurt you."

You nodded, running your fingers through Peter's hair.

"I'm okay, babe, I promise. That was honestly the best sex we've ever had. Let's get cleaned up….and get the couch cleaned for Tom."

Peter nodded, grabbing his suit and helping you stand as your legs were completely jelly. Peter escorted you to the bedroom, allowing you to lie down as he took care of you; whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he wiped you down, and you were out almost immediately the second your head hit the pillows.

Peter sat at your side, looking down at you as you slept; remembering every little detail that he could about your face. He kissed your forehead firmly, whispering.

"I love you to the moon and back."

EXTENDED ENDING

Peter gently shut the door, back in his suit, and he froze at the sight of Tom sheepishly glancing around the corner.

"S-Sorry, mate, wasn't sure if it was…safe…to come out or not."

Peter looked slightly perturbed before he shook his head and raised a brow.

"What do you mean? You've been out here the whole time. Watching…."

Tom's face went red, and Peter almost frowned as the man stuttered.

"That's…that's not what happened! I-"

"-Don't care. Now you know who she truly belongs to, but I’ll…figure out a way to deal with you later.”

And with that, Peter left out the window, leaving Tom stunned in the living room.

[END]

#OH MY GOD #hot damn #this was so good

570 notes · View notes

coralstories · 11 months

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QPR With Boromir (Part 1, Gender Neutral Reader)

One night, around the campfire, the Fellowship's conversation turned to the very topic (Y/N) had been dreading to address: Romance. To say their feelings about it were complicated would be a massive understatement. So while Aragorn was waxing poetic over Arwen and "a love that could never be", Boromir soon noticed that a certain member was missing. (Y/N) had slipped away without anyone noticing.

'They probably went to get some water' he thought before heading out to find them. Seemingly nobody noticed his leaving either, all engrossed in conversations of romance, Rosie Cotton and pretty dwarrowdams.

As expected, Boromir found them near the river. But rather than filling up their water skin, they were just sitting solemnly.

"My friend, are you alright?"

His voice must have startled them as he watched (Y/N) jump and squeak in surprise before whipping around to see him. He wasn't sure whether to apologize or laugh.

"I'm fine, Boromir. Just.. all the romance talk was making me uncomfortable."

"Ah, yes, well I must admit that I never fancied such things either."

"Really?" (Y/N) eyed him suspiciously, "I'd imagine someone like you to have a flock of pretty court ladies at every moment."

"You flatter me, my friend. And my father certainly did have some in mind, but.." Boromir looked off into the distance "I could never bring myself to be interested."

(Y/N) looked at him surprised before a shy smile found it's way into their face.

"I know how you feel. I've tried to make myself like romance, but everytime I actually try it something always feels wrong. Like suddenly all I can feel is repulsion. I guess I figured if I wanted love hard enough, I could make myself actually feel it. But that's not how it works, is it?"

Boromir stared at his companion while their looked down, knees tucked up to their chest. How many times had he second guessed himself? How many times had he struggled with the same revelation (Y/N) did? The two were already growing close during the long trek to Mordor, but now there was something more. Not love, but kinship. And, perhaps more importantly, understanding.

"I've never heard someone describe it that well." He half chuckled.

"I think there's a word for it."

"There is?"

"Yeah." (Y/N) said "I read it in a book. Aromantic, I think. And maybe Asexual too if sex doesn't interest you either."

"Well, I always seem to learn something new from you, now don't I?"

"That's what I'm here for." (Y/N) giggled.

The two spent a good hour by that river, discussing romance and preferences.

"But I still want connection, you know. I want a life partner, maybe even someone to marry, but without the baggage of romance."

"What would you be comfortable doing with them, if I may ask?"

"I'm not a big fan of kissing, but I like holding hands and cuddling. I still want affection, just platonic affection."

"How sappy."

"Oh shut up." (Y/N) huffed, "What about you?"

"I think I'd like something similar. Maybe a little exploration in sensuality, but not much. I too would like to share my life with someone."

With that, the two looked at each other intently, as if collectively weighing options in their mind. It seems an agreement was settled without any words spoken between them..

"How about-" They started at the same time.

"You go." Offered Boromir.

"No, you."

"Fine." Boromir rolled his eyes, "Since we're both the only aromantic people here, why don't we commit to each other?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing." (Y/N) smiled.

"Good. Maybe now I can get father to stop hounding me to find a wife."

"Do you think we should go as far as platonic marriage?"

"I think we'll see where it goes."

"Good idea."

At that moment, Gimli clambered his way through the brush to find the two of them.

"Ach, there you rascals are! The hobbits have prepared supper, I suggest you lovebirds get a move on!"

'Lovebirds?'

(Y/N) and Boromir shared a knowing look.

#asshjklfh #aro rep #I love it

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coralstories · 1 year

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Awww thank you! That means a lot coming from you ♥️

October 19th: Potion

Day 1 of @dumbassunderthemountain 13 Days of Spooky Writing Event

Bilbo x femReader fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1204

A/N: Yay, here we are!

“Master Baggins, keep up!” Thorin called.

Bilbo huffed, jogging to catch up with the last in line. As soon as he reached her he fell to a walk.

“Are you okay, Bilbo?” she asked him.

Y/N was Gandalf’s apprentice. After Gandalf vouched for her, Thorin begrudgingly allowed her on the quest. She and Bilbo were sort of in the same situation in this way. But while Thorin was short with Bilbo, he often seemed to act warmer towards Y/N. She knew that it made Bilbo feel even more excluded.

“Oh, fine,” Bilbo responded. “It’s a beautiful day to be marching through the forest.”

Y/N gave him a soft, kind smile.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said.

He made a noncommittal noise, his shoulders drooping.

“Don’t worry, Bilbo,” Y/N said. “It’ll be alright. You’ll see.”

The next morning, Y/N sat with Bombur as he cooked breakfast. Bilbo watched them as he rolled up his sleeping pack. Y/N was laughing at something Bombur said and play-fighting with the princes. Bilbo sighed and looked away. He thought that he and Y/N were growing closer. But this morning she had been ignoring him, just like most of the company. He ran through all their conversations, wondering if he had said something to offend her. Perhaps she didn’t care about him after all.

When Bombur was done cooking breakfast, Bilbo left his seat to go grab a bowl. As soon as he stood, he was surprised by Y/N standing right in front of him. She smiled at him, holding a bowl of whatever Bombur made and a cup of what looked like tea.

“Here you go, Bilbo,” she said. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength today.”

Bilbo blinked owlishly.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” he said, taking the bowl and cup from her. “Is this tea?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes. It’s good, drink up.”

She sat beside him and they ate their breakfast in silence. Bilbo was quietly pleased. Maybe she wasn’t ignoring him after all.

That good feeling followed him throughout the day. With Y/N next to him, even Thorin’s glares and angry muttering couldn’t get to him. He also found he had more energy, and kept up with the group more easily. He and Y/N talked while they walked. They talked about the Shire, about his home, and she listened with great interest. Few outsiders had been to the Shire, after all. After having been to Bilbo’s home, she couldn’t deny feeling the attraction of a quiet and comfortable life.

The next morning was the same. Y/N went and sat with Bombur, then brought Bilbo his breakfast and a cup of tea. While they walked, she talked about her home, and how she came to be Gandalf’s apprentice. Bilbo was excited to learn about magic and magic users. She didn’t go into detail, however, preferring to talk about her adventures on the road with Gandalf.

Afficher davantage

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coralstories · 1 year

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This ending was so cute! The whole story was weirdly relatable lol. Well maybe not so weirdly since I wear glasses too.

Glasses [3/3]

/// PART 1 \\

Relationships: Bilbo x You (Modern girl in Middle Earth - with glasses)

Content: Fluff, angst

Summary: Finding yourself in Middle-earth with a dwarves’ company is hard enough, so losing your glasses in a fight against the trolls is even worse! Lucky for you, Bilbo is here to help …

On AO3 - Version française

After the reconciliations and the return of your glasses, exploring Rivendell becomes much more enjoyable. The architecture of the buildings, interior or exterior, waterfalls, trees, everything exudes magic and elegance. Elrond’s library is incredibly large and full of books. You often meet Ori or Bilbo there. The rest of your time, you go exploring the surrounding gardens or forests.

Keep reading

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coralstories · 1 year

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Glasses [2/3]

/// PART 1 \\

Relationships: Bilbo x You (Modern girl in Middle Earth - with glasses)

Content: Fluff, angst

Summary: Finding yourself in Middle-earth with a dwarves’ company is hard enough, so losing your glasses in a fight against the trolls is even worse! Lucky for you, Bilbo is here to help …

On AO3 - Version française

It doesn’t take long for you to get to Rivendell. You regret losing your glasses even more now that you are here. The place looks as beautiful as the sky … Now isn’t the time to complain, at least you are alive!

Hearing the brouhaha of the dwarves when you arrive, you smile. Focused on Elrond and Gandalf, neither of them seem to have noticed your presence. When Elrond invites them to dinner in Elvish, you have a hard time trying not to laugh.

Keep reading

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coralstories · 1 year

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Glasses [1/3]

Credit photo: Emmanuel Phaeton on unsplash

Relationships: Bilbo x You (Modern girl in Middle Earth - with glasses)

Content: Fluff, angst

Summary: Finding yourself in Middle-earth with a dwarves’ company is hard enough, so losing your glasses in a fight against the trolls is even worse! Lucky for you, Bilbo is here to help …

On AO3 - Version française

“I’m not a Hobbit!” you say more surprised than angry. “Small, big feet, pointed ears. I don’t think I’m wrong when I say you are,” Gandalf says, the grey wizard you recognized at a glance, looking down at you. “So what are you if you’re not a hobbit?” “I-I am a human… well normally…” you explain, confused while looking around you.

Keep reading

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coralstories · 1 year

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Tea and apple pie

Relationships: Bilbo x fem!Reader

Content: Comfort, fluff

Summary: Even though you live in Bag End with Bilbo, you don’t feel well, but you’ll eventually find comfort.

On AO3

Note: I needed a quick comfort fic with Bilbo and I couldn't find one, so I wrote one. Enjoy!

You couldn't have asked for anything better than to live with Bilbo since he returned to Bag End. Yet today, your mood is at its lowest and you don't want to bother him. It’s true you aren’t well, but that is nothing compared to what Bilbo has been through, right?

After sighing for a while alone, unable to find an interesting book in Bilbo’s library, you decide to go out. Fresh air should do you good. Autumn has already begun so you put on a light jacket at the front door.

“Where are you going? I was about to start making dinner,” Bilbo says as he walks toward you, wearing his comfortable multi-coloured dressing gown with a surprised face. “And it’s almost night. Were you planning to go out with your friends?”

At first, you don’t know what to answer, feeling stupid to be in this depressed state, but when he is in front of you, you feel that you need to change your mind. A walk in the Shire would be perfect.

“Are you alright?” Bilbo resumed, stroking your upper arm. “Yes, I’m fine. I, hm, I need a little fresh air. And I’m not hungry. No need to wait for me to dine.”

You hope your smile is convincing, and you won’t wait for his opinion. You leave Bag End for a long walk alone while the sun sets behind the scattered smials on the horizon.

When you come back home, it’s totally dark outside. The wind is cold, and you’re glad to find the fireplace lit when you open the front door of Bag End. In truth, the walk didn’t help you. You’re just colder and more tired than before. Maybe going directly to bed could be the best. As you remove your jacket to put it away on the coat rack next to the door, you smell a delicious meal. Oh, it’s your favourite meal…

In the kitchen, Bilbo doesn’t hear you joining him. He is focused on the window, looking outside with a melancholic look. His hair is shining with the hearth's light and some candles. The table is set, waiting for your return. It seems he didn’t eat without you finally. Once he notices you, a light smile appears on his face as he wipes his hand on his apron.

“Oh, you’re back!” he says in a cheerful voice with a hesitant smile.

You walk to him slowly. Without a word, you hug him, your head burying in his neck while his arms close on you. Apple, tobacco, and some flowers. Is his smell that calms you in this way? You never realised he smelled like home to you.

“I was worried about you,” he murmurs as his hands stroke your back gently while his hair tickles your neck. “I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling well and I thought I needed to clear my head while I just needed you.”

Your hug becomes more tightly as you realise his presence is so comforting. Bilbo is a little surprised by your behaviour but he would never refuse a hug from you. Hearing you say that you're not feeling well hurt him even though he already realised something was wrong when you left earlier.

“You should have told me,” he says as he strokes your hair softly. “You can talk to me whenever you need, you know?” “Yes, I know but I didn't want to bother you. It's nothing compared to what happened to you.”

Bilbo slowly pulls away from you, just enough to see you. Still in his arms, he kisses your forehead before speaking again.

“It's not nothing if you're like this. Tell me about it.”

Despite being sweet, his tone doesn't give you a choice. Not letting you go, he listens to you without a word until you finish. Once a smile eventually appears on your lips now your mind sounds lighter, Bilbo kisses your forehead once again. His hand finds your cheek and he frowns when he feels you are still cold from your walking.

“Do you want to eat or rest first?” he asks in a hesitant voice as he starts to let you go. “We should eat first. I'm starving,” you say now you are better and your stomach is asking for food.

Your answer couldn't have reassured him more. His eyes start to sparkle and his smile widens. He has such a cute face you can resist.

“Perfect!” he says as he leads you proudly to the table. “I made everything for you! As we say in the Shire, everything is better with a full belly! Sit here and let me serve you. I cook your favourite meal and an apple pie. We can eat it with tea in front of the fireplace to warm you better.”

Who could stop a hobbit from serving you food? In no time, Bilbo serves you and himself, then sits in front of you. When he starts talking about food, he hardly stops. Considering how much time you spent talking to him about what made you sad, you can let him brag a little about his apple pie, right?

And finally, listening to Bilbo’s stories with tea and a piece of apple pie in front of the fireplace, sitting in an armchair in his arms, may be just what you need after all.

#so cute #comfy

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coralstories · 1 year

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Drabble nugget:

You hadn’t felt well now for a few days, but still soldiered on, fighting to remain upright and focused. However, more had been noticed of your illness than you thought.

It was way past sundown and you lay on your side in Beorn’s barn. There were snores echoing around you, and even the whimpers of someone having a bad dream.

The shivers racked through you again, a sure sign of impending flu.

Suddenly you felt someone behind you. An arm came over you, wrapping around your middle. Immediately you recognised that leather bracer. Thorin. Warmth radiated through every fibre of you, making you burn in both arousal and fever.

Thorin couldn’t stop his concern for you ravaging his mind. He’d seen your shivers, flushed cheeks and fatigue. All he had wanted was to hold you, calm you, help you rest. But only now could he bring himself to do it. When you were asleep, wandering a dream world. You wouldn’t know of his feelings, and he could never be rejected or ridiculed.

You smiled amidst your shock. Did he even realise you were awake?

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coralstories · 1 year

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Kinktober Day 28 - Sex Magic

MCU Fanfiction Domesic Loki x Reader

Fictober Prompt "I don't have to explain myself"

Summary: Loki wants to try a new spell, but he needs your help with it.

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, body art, magic, kissing, swearing.

A/N: I have no idea if I followed this prompt right but this is what it said to me.

Masterlist

Kinktober Masterlist

Loki studied his notes carefully, he was sure this was how it was done. Most of Frigga's texts, the documents she so carefully kept for him, the records, were lost during Ragnarok. But he had a small book about his person with basic symbols and short hand to work from.

"Lie still" he swatted at your bare thigh, the paper on your stomach sliding off onto the bed when you giggled

"How am I meant to lie still when you're writing on me! I'm sure you're tickling me on purpose, is all this really necessary?" You sat up a little on your elbows to crane your neck down to see the intricate blue swirls traced up your legs and hips, over your stomach.

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Loki laughed, then tipped his head a little examining the patterns on your skin "I think you're done anyway, just need to wait for the ink to dry a little" sitting back on his haunches he fanned at the ink, watching the wet shine fade. "Excellent, you're done"

"Is that the spell? Is the spell cast?"

"No darling, not yet" he leaned over you, his eyes darkening to a predatory glint "there's one more thing you need to do first" he whispered into your ear, the warm air tickling the sensitive skin, his nose traced the line of your jaw, tongue flicking out briefly to feel your pulse.

"Lo - wha- " he nosed across your collar bone, breathy and soft until he reached your other ear.

"For the magic to work, you need to cum for me" just his words sent tingles through your body. How could you deny him that.

"Lo, please" your hands searched his body desperately, trying to manhandle him closer.

He was so gentle, his delicate fingers teasing pleasure from deep inside of you until you begged for more.

"My darling, I will give you everything, just be patient" he kissed your temple as your head thrashed against the downy pillows of your marital bed "hush, just be calm." He kissed down your neck again, feeling your pulse beat against his lips as you became one.

Loki was a passionate lover, ferocious in the pursuit of your mutual pleasure. But he could also be focused, driven and deeply loving. His palms cupped your face as he poured every ounce, every speck, of his devolution into your union. Aching to see you satisfied.

"Loki" you whispered, over come with your love for him and this tender side of him so rarely shown to anyone but you.

"That's it my darling, cum for me" his voice like black silk tipping you over the edge. Your back arching and toes flexing into the covers. Loki took the opportunity to slide a hand under you, holding you up against him as he too reached his climax.

In the afterglow he held you close still, buried inside.

"Do you think...could that be it?" You asked, scared in the darkness, only a few candles lighting the room.

"I don't know, Darling, it could be. All the spell does it make it possible. But we may have to try many times, both Midgardians and Jotuns are rarely able to conceive on the first try."

"Oh, okay" you touched one of the intricate designs on your leg

"We should wash you now" Loki sat up a little and held out his hand to help you up too.

"Let's leave it a little" you take his hand and pull him back to the bed, held tight against his side.

Tag list:

@marvelfansworld @doasyoudesireandlive @dyinglikenarcissus @kittycatkrissa @shamelessfangirl-3

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coralstories · 1 year

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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 [The Hobbit] Rivendell's most awkward fireflies 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

I know not everyone wants to watch that mushy Bofur x Leanna animation, but this was a part of the chorus that took the loooongest to animate- so I made some HD Gifs nobody asked for hehe ur epic if you reblog

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coralstories · 1 year

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The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)

"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.

Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.

You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.

“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”

Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.

“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.

“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @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 @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#hot #I may be pregnant just from reading this #hot damn

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coralstories · 1 year

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Don't Be Shy [Loki x Fem Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is here. Summary: [Oneshot] You want him. He wants you. But he's shy, and for good reason. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. S*x starved Loki. Teasing. Dirty talk. (w/c 1.9k)

You had decided. Come what may, tonight was the night you were making your move. You glanced subtly towards the god of mischief sitting cross-legged on his own, lounging diagonally on a sofa at the far side of the common room. Garish balloons floated in the air on either side of where he sat, looking comically out of place in his self-imposed fortress of solitude. He curled a loose tendril of hair behind his ear before slowly licking a fingertip, gracefully turning the page of his book.

“You know what he’s like at parties.” Thor shouted through a slur, barely audible over the music and sporadic breaks of laughter all around you. Reluctantly, you turned to the blonde looming over your shoulder. “I know, but usually he reads at the bar at least.” you scoffed, taking a sip. Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “My brother likes you, you know. He’s just shy.” He narrowed his eyes, seeing your lips twitch in a smile. “Likes you.” he continued coyly, labouring the point as he wriggled his eyebrows “...if you know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes. “I think the mini-quiches know what you mean.” The god laughed, far harder than the joke deserved. The head of his beer sloshed over the side of the glass, hitting the floor by your feet. You saw Loki’s head rise out the corner of your eye, a disapproving frown etched deep on his face. Thor leant closer. “He’s waiting for you to come to him.”

“Is he, now?” you replied innocently. “Well then...I shouldn’t keep him waiting, should I?” Shooting Thor a wink, you began to sway towards the dark-haired god. The grooves on his forehead smoothed suspiciously quickly as he composed himself, blinking several times in swift succession. Clearly, he was flustered. The skirt of your skater dress swished around your thighs as you drew closer. Loki’s intentional avoidance of you, palpable. “Hi, Laufeyson.” you said cheerfully, plonking onto the sofa beside him. He grunted in greeting, scanning the words on the page at a steady pace. Tentatively, you reached and clasped the thick of the book, sliding it from his hand. You placed it on your lap, nestled amongst the folds of black satin. Loki’s hand remained in place, poised in the air. “How rude.” he said coldly, his eyes rising to meet yours with a wolf-like squint. You smiled, tilting your head. “So is reading at a birthday party. You should talk to people.” “I don’t like talking to people at these things. Everyone is so…” he grimaced, looking towards the crowd. The team hung off each other in various stages of inebriation, laughter and raucous shouting exploding every few seconds as hits of the 90’s played at full blast. Loki sighed. “I prefer it over here. It’s quieter. And the company, infinitely better.” You scooted closer, leaning towards him as you both stared at the jovial mass of your colleagues. The movement nudged against Loki’s thigh, making him flinch. “Even if I’m here?” you said innocently as you turned your face to his, batting your lashes. The god’s jaw twitched, his façade of bravado fading. He flicked his wrist, inspecting his nails. “Perhaps.” he purred, as you drank in the tantalising sight of his curled fingers. God, they were so long. Loki smirked, running a covetous gaze down your crossed legs and back to your face. “You look very pretty tonight.” he murmured politely, straightening against the sofa with an arm outstretched over the back. “Pretty?” you tutted, as you slid his book to the side. “That isn’t quite what I was going for.”

Loki’s brows slanted. “Oh? And what were you going for, exactly?” The deep pitch of his voice wavered as he rested a hand behind his head. He was nervous. You could see each controlled breath making his chest squeeze the buttons of his shirt; clinging on for dear life. The pulse point in his neck was thundering, a faint hue of pink just visible at the tip of his ear. “Fuckable.” you heard yourself purr.

Loki swallowed.

The fingers resting in his hair tightened, chin tilting upward as he inhaled sharply through his nose. “What are you doing?” he growled. Suspicious eroticism smouldered in his irises, cheekbones flashing in the low light. “I highly recommend that you choose your next words very carefully.” The thump of your heart was deafening as his stare lowered towards the hand creeping to his knee. “I think it’s time you tell me what you want, Loki…don't you?” you said quietly, fingers cupping the muscled curve. Both of you had been dancing around this for months. The flirting, the masked innuendos. And the touching...my god. The light brush of his hands on your waist as he made his presence known; a gravelled ‘excuse me’ whisping in your ear as he passed with a lingering smoulder. “Why don’t you tell me what I want?" he rumbled. "You seem to be very sure of yourself tonight.”

You and Loki’s legs were crossed towards each other, calves grazing as you shuffled closer. Your bare skin slipped against the luxurious fabric of his suit trousers, cologne filling your nostrils, wafting from the sliver of skin visible at the top buttons of his shirt. He smelled like expensive hotels and filthy, decadent deeds. Rich oak-smoked masculinity seeping into the primal centre of your brain.

“You want me, Laufeyson…” you murmured, beginning to lightly run a fingertip up his crossed leg. The material brushed your skin with the lightest touch. Just enough to make him tingle. Loki’s breath hitched, his hips jolting back into the cushioning.

“Don’t deny it.” you whispered. Loki’s frowned, before clearing his throat. He shuffled on the sofa, the uncrossing of his legs making your hand retreat. He cast a solemn glance to the dance-floor, before focusing back on you. “I had no plans on denying it.” he drawled haughtily, a slight tremble betraying simmering depths. “I’m just a little...taken aback.” “Shy, you mean?” you murmured playfully. “Do you want me to stop?” you said, inching away. Loki’s hand flew out, grabbing your wrist. His eyes were narrowed, brow creased. “No.” he growled, letting his legs widen slowly. You wondered if he knew he had done it. “Although, I am a little...out of practice-” he cut himself off, placing your hand back on his thigh. Automatically, you squeezed the muscle of his solid femur, making him groan quietly. “Out of practice?” you cooed, shuffling so that your back was turned to the crowd by the bar. “Has the great Loki Laufeyson not gotten laid in a while?”

A whimper slid past his lips as your hand moved higher, skating lightly up his thigh. Two inches forward, one inch back. Loki shook his head. “Purely... i-intentional, you understand…” he managed through erratic breaths. You nodded sagely. “Of course.” you teased, enjoying Loki’s deepening scowl. You could see the fabric around his crotch tightening beneath the flashing lights, thick creases appearing around his hip where his cock was hardening beneath your delicate touch. The god’s smouldering eyes were filled with shameless fantasies, pupils wide with desire as you inched higher. He thrust upward lightly, a hiss filling the air between you as he grit his teeth. The swell of your cleavage heaved directly in his line of sight as your lips grazed his cheek. “Do you masturbate to me, Loki?” you whispered, a thrill rushing through your blood as you pulled back, watching his reaction.

He paused, his mouth hardening in a thin line. The god studied the curve of your knowing smile before nodding twice. Slowly. He kept his chin low on the second as your fingers trailed over the rock hard column straining against his hip. Loki let out a juddering sigh, abdominals clenching visibly beneath his perfectly fitted shirt. You drew closer once more, letting your moist lips brush against the angle of his jaw. “Do you fuck yourself to the thought of me in your empty bed, being your little plaything?” “Gods…” Loki gasped quietly, his legs trembling with the effort of resistance. You smiled. “Or maybe you would be my plaything. Would you like that?” You slid your hand up his chest, turning his face towards yours. “I bet we could teach each other so many things, Loki of Asgard.” you hummed seductively, biting your lip. “And I bet you look so fucking good on your back, palming yourself as you moan my name. Don't you?” Loki’s brows knitted together, twitching. “I can only imagine the dirty ways you've had me with that perfect cock of yours…” you groaned in his ear a final time, hearing him whimper quietly in response. “-How do you know it’s p-perfect?” he grunted, an attempt at humour in his increasingly desperate state. You laughed softly, rubbing your palm firmly up the seemingly endless shaft bound beneath the cotton. “Call it, intuition.” you murmured, pausing to suck his earlobe between your teeth.

Loki groaned again, louder this time. “Shhh…” you hushed, fighting to contain your glee. He whipped his head round, his hand flying to yours resting teasingly on his pulsing cock. Dark curls framed his exquisite face, those bottomless eyes searching yours as he looked for any hint of insincerity. His breaths short. “Truly, I would not wish to give you false hope of satisfaction. It really has been a whil-” His almond eyes widened as you pressed a finger to his lips. They were moist with breath hot with desire, the condensation of his desperation. “I’ll take care of you, Loki…” you said slowly, walking the fingers of your other hand up his flat stomach. "Don't worry about that." Every word felt like syrup, each one more laboured than the last as wet arousal slid in your panties. “I just... really...need to fuck you tonight. Does that sound like a good idea?”

Loki nodded again, eyes darkening. You slid the fingertip resting on his cupid’s bow down, grazing over his jawline as you pressed your chest to his, leaning forward to claim him with a kiss. Finally. His lips parted, gazing up at you with beautiful desperation, head resting on the back of the sofa. His submission, imminent.

“Not here.” he choked suddenly before your lips met, raising his head to eye the buzzing crowd with suspicion. “Are you ashamed of me?” you jibed with a coy smile, pawing at the next button on his shirt before spreading your palm against his chest. He was so fucking hard. “Far from it, Agent-” he growled, embers of the Loki you knew from the battlefield lighting the air around you like stars. He ground his teeth together, a low exhale making the thick vein in his neck stand erect as he leant forward. Loki’s nose traced the line of your cheekbone, exhaling sluttishly in your ear with a licentious moan. “I fear that if I were to kiss you now, I would not be able to restrain myself.” You inhaled against his skin, feeling him shudder with shameless need as his murky spiced cologne wafted hot in your nostrils. “Let’s take this party upstairs then, shall we?” you smouldered, feeling him shiver again beneath the graze of your lips.

Companion oneshot Delayed Gratification - Smut.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @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 @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#the buildup is intenssseee

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