metalogs | ( closed ) you know i'm not a saint

Entry tags:

( closed ) you know i'm not a saint

Who: loki

ikols & peter parker

kindofamazing
What: smut, relationship biz
When: valentine's day
Where: loki's apartment
Content Warnings: hot tottie awooga 3:)

[ After a conversation early in the hours of Valentine's Day, Loki spends his time doing some rare housekeeping with the intention of it paying off later. Peter will see, hopefully, that Loki can be attentive and thoughtful, this being such a sensitive subject they have only briefly and jokingly covered so far, and that Loki is willing to listen if he has changed his mind. Still, he changes the bedsheets, making sure some towels are stashed in a drawer, lube is nearby on the dresser where a jug of water and two glasses stand.

More than anything, Loki doesn't want Peter to feel beholden to his curiosity and the fact he spends time cooking him a nice dinner (as Peter always yowls about enjoying home-cooked food so much) attempts to convey that. It's not as if Loki expects Peter to swing in and to ravish him on the spot: they have dinner, a movie is on the title-screen, and they can relax first. The water is hot in case Peter wishes to shower after sweating in his suit all day (although Loki sincerely doesn't mind that).

The scene awaiting Peter is therefore carefully cultivated to put him at ease.

Loki has a tea-towel over a shoulder as he serves up their meal, a hearty steak and veg, music playing lowkey. It isn't often at all that he feels the urge to do anything domestic or selfless but Peter has him eager in waves, keen to please. He texts him to see what the ETA is on his spider-person. ]

dinner is ready whenever you are, spider-manz

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[ Relaxing into the kiss, one of his hands slips into Peter's hair and brushes through, giving a happy tug behind an ear. He grins widely, forehead dropping into the crook of Peter's neck. ]

Valentine's, yes! I can't believe I've been word-vomiting such dire subjects your way today.

[ He nips where he is, kisses making their way up to nibble on an earlobe as he slides his hand in Peter's hair down to his chest, rapping the spider-symbol. Poor man hasn't even had a chance to change, yet. ]

However can I make it up to you ... ?

[One day, one day, Peter will actually show up to Loki's place in casual clothe. Hell, maybe he'll even come through the front door! How novel!

The scrape of Loki's teeth against his ear sends an excited shiver up Peter's spine, right up the back of his neck, along every hair and somewhere deep in his brain as the purr of Loki's voice lights up every nerve.

It's just such the flirty opening, something Loki seems to do so effortlessly and smoothly that it sometimes leaves Peter's mind spinning and feeling like he's wildly out of his depth. What the heck are you supposed to do when you have an incredibly cool boyfriend?

He does give a low hum though, something that vibrates in his chest just beneath Loki's palm as Peter leans his head against the side of the Asgardian's.]

I dunno... I guess could always show you some of the messages you sent earlier if you need some inspiration.

[Dexterous fingers dance along the line of Loki's back fleetingly.]

But I do mean it. There's nothing I'd want more than to hear more about you from you. It means a lot that you'd share that with me. Really.

[No more serious, Parker! Are you trying to throttle the mood as it's trying to take off or what?]

[ They have been touchy since their first night, both craving the affection in honest desire, and it couldn't be coursing through Loki's veins any hotter as Peter keeps going on about wanting to get to know him (wanting to hear Loki speak), drugging him dizzily on longing. He slides off his stool to loom in close, situating himself between Peter's legs, and slides both hands down a red-and-blue chest to encircle a waist with a squeeze. ]

I don't think I've ever wanted to have a man more when you talk like that.

[ His lips skate close to Peter's, giving into the urge to kiss him just as deeply as he was moments before, and he lets a low moan melt into the passing of tongues. When the slow, sticky slide ends, he rests their foreheads together with a heated look under his lashes, the touches down his back causing him to arch in close. ]

Let me peel you free of that costume and spread you out, dear.

[To Peter, he's just being honest. He's been closed off for a lot of years, only starting to see cracks of the person he was emerge again after so long and even then it's not revealing the same person as before, but someone new. It should have taken a tremendous amount of time to get to this place of honest openness with Loki, and yet it all arrived so quickly that it still sometimes leave Peter feel kind of light-headed and like he's spinning.

Like when Loki says stuff like that about him, like he's somehow unique and it feels surreal. The only thing that makes him believe Loki means it is because he trusts what Loki says, even having been told he'll likely lie at some point. Weirdly, Peter already gets the sense if Loki did lie he could trust that too, in some paradoxical way.

But then there's the other way Loki speaks to him which is equally head-spinning for entirely different reasons and Peter can already feel the heat tingle up the small of his back and rise up the back of his neck as his hands slide down to run down over Loki's wrists and the backs of his hands.]

You made dinner.

[Are those nerves making him blurt out odd priorities. Maybe. Shh!]

I'd rather eat you.

[ He doesn't miss a beat admitting it, the wickedly covetous look Peter inspires softening soon after. Loki runs his hands down to Peter's hips and back up again, always giving into the pressure of the hands on his if they want him to stop; he loves the shape of him, all laid out in that tight little suit conveniently putting every muscle on display.

Green eyes blink, steady and serious in the midst of spiralling lust. ]

Would you like that? If we started out easy, with you riding my mouth? If you don't like it you can always fuck me.

[There's an extent to which Peter can never really tell how much of this is just Loki trying to get a rise out of him (in multiple ways; two birds with one stone and all that) and how much of it is serious. Or maybe it's always both. Perhaps that's what's both terrifying and so intensely enthralling about just about everything Loki does.

After a very protracted blink which may or may not be Peter just letting so many mental images filter through his mind as he instinctually reaches over to tug Loki flush to him abruptly--hips meeting, foreheads touching, heat shared as he heaves a low breath.]

I really don't think there's much you could do I wouldn't like. [He keeps his eyes low, eyelids casting a bit of a shadow over his gaze in a way that almost makes him look coy. Or at least faux coy.]

Plus... I think we're well beyond starting out easy, dontcha think?

[ He always feels his blood spike with heat whenever Peter pulls him in and now is no different, shivers racing up Loki's spine as he leans into his space, his body, lashes dropping to focus on Peter's mouth. His embrace encircles him snugly for a moment as he listens. A kiss catches, light and sweet at odds with the heartbeat pounding in Loki's ears and through every vein. ]

We are never beyond what makes you comfortable, dear.

[ But he can take the lead when needed and his hands drift a moment before he hooks them under Peter's thighs and lifts him without effort, hoisting him up. Loki grins and walks him back to the nearest wall, pushing Peter up against it with a hungry kiss, hips working to provide the best seat possible as he grinds in impatiently, starved for everything his shaky-souled lover can give. ]

[Woah. Okay, no. Wait. Hang on. That's not right. That's not right at all!

It all happens really, really fast even if it doesn't actually happen really fast. Is this what other people feel like when he just casually hoists them up? This kind of rush of surprise and excitement and a general 'woah what the fuck, man, you shouldn't be able to do that!' internal sentiment? He has no idea, but of course theoretically he knew Loki was stronger than the human he mostly looks like and the theoretical and literal just hadn't had chance to meet yet.

Boy howdy though if everything Peter knows being thrown on its head isn't a ridiculous turn-on as his hands automatically reach into the silky black of Loki's hair and his grip tightens to meet that ravenous kiss entirely along with a long, deep groan in his throat that vibrates low and loud.]

[ That's the moan of a man dying to get fucked, Loki thinks, while thought is still possible. He answers with a rumbling purr of approval and squeezes the cheeks in his grip with every rolling thrust, finding the curve of balls and rutting his cock up behind them so that Peter is never without the hard length of him. Having been aroused in the back of his mind all day it takes exceedingly little to have Loki panting into Peter's mouth, harsh breaths warming with the taste of his lover on his tongue, cock eager to please.

He can hear the rush of white noise in the back of his mind when Peter grips his hair tight, hissing through a smile.

A biting kiss works its way down a slender, elegant neck, marking up his spider so that anyone will see the bruises once that mask is off, entirely caught up in the scent and heat of the body riding his even through their clothes. Like that, he says without words, giving Peter a demonstration of how he wants him. ]

[For someone who has claimed with a fair bit of certainty that he will lie, Loki turns out to be fairly true to his word, at least as far as the threat-promises in his texts suggested--a sense of total envelopment, being so caught up in the moment that nothing like good sense had space to exist.

That's certainly the direction Loki is immediately heading with the skill and fire like he's everywhere at once, a match to Peter's entirely too flammable body. Hands and breath and lips, lighting up every nerve-ending in Peter's system so bright it starts to sear in the most deliriously exquisite way.

Maybe in the morning, while tugging at his own collar, Peter will mutter at curse at himself (not Loki) about not being an undergrad anymore and how he shouldn't be getting hickies, but god damn if he doesn't care about that right now as the sharp want and need of the moment winds through everything. And in point of fact it just tightens his hold in Loki's hair with a tug closer and forward since it seems to at least in part be related to cause and effect. Cause: grab god-boyfriend's hair; effect: god-boyfriend does that.

His legs can squeeze Loki in tight and close, secure and firm as he leans his head back with a throaty groan that he immediately clamps quiet with a spandex-covered hand because, oops, he sure is not quite out of his own mind just yet. Not fully, anyway.

Oh, [ tilting his head back when he hears Peter muffling his cries, he grasps his wrist and pins it above Peter's head, ] no, none of that.

[ He can support him with one arm, shifting Peter onto a thigh so he can get the front of his pants snug against Loki's hip for a firm grind, slower than before so that Loki can watch the pink rise up that webbed collar and tint the shells of ears. He obeys any tugging on his hair, scraping his teeth over tendons and kissing them better a moment later, tongue trailing up behind an ear. ]

I like it when you're hot and bothered in this suit, you're the loveliest thing.

Edited 2022-03-08 21:08 (UTC)

[That's only so much denial someone can have about the effects they're under in spandex and Loki's interest in pushing that is about as subtle as the hard curve of his cock.

Typically someone on par with his own strength or stronger would be a real cause for concern for Peter, given the context he's usually encountering that sort of thing, but here, with Loki, it's a brand of exhilarating that he should probably feel a kind of shame about. Maybe he does. Maybe it just burns away with the heat rising from his body as he tries to gain a bit more of a foothold and instead just pushes and grinds his hips against his lover to add to that friction.]

You get me too worked up in the suit and you're getting the dry-cleaning bill.

[Not that it's a real concern for either one of them--provided credit cards or magic, it doesn't actually matter in the end.

Peter's hand flexes beneath Loki's grasp, eyes drifting briefly toward the hand pinning him in place as he tests just a little, pushes back against the weight there, just to see what happens.]

Paying for your clothes? You can call me daddy if you need to, dear.

[ He grins wickedly, laughing into a kiss he steals all lips and slow tongues. Feeling the way Peter tests Loki's hold, he lets him shove a little then with every ounce of strength (that he never admits to having) calmly forces Peter's wrist right against the wall where it isn't allowed to move.

Loki's lips ghost along Peter's jaw, catching on stubble. Choice is a kink he toys with lightly, experimenting for Peter's sake to see what he likes, light and playful with a note of curiosity. ]

Pretty little hero, in the clutches of the supervillain. Now you'll have to give in and let me ravish you in my lair, Mister Spider ... you can't go anywhere.

[There are some many levels on which Peter is not calling Loki daddy even as a joke and there's the softest bit of blustering that ultimately turns into not much of anything, partly because finding the actual words he needs for that moment just aren't accessible, and partly because the kiss just kind of swallows everything up with laughter and heat.

There's also not a second attempt to push Loki away, not even as a test. It's something worth knowing, in the abstract, that again the inevitable liar is surprisingly truthful, at least as far as telling Peter he can hold his own is concerned.]

This counts is a lair? Where's the shark tank and the tall-backed spinning chair? [Apparently there isn't a full-body shudder that can contain the quipping yet.]

[ Holding in his laughter doesn't really work and every kiss is a melting of smiles, shared and intimate. ]

I had to make room for a bigger bed.

[ He releases Peter from being pinned but keeps him in his arms, hands hoisting him playfully higher as Loki carries him toward the bedroom. Those shudders would be better served on blankets he has decided, nuzzling Peter's neck above a rubbery collar. ]

I never tell you often enough how much I adore you. Your soft skin, your doe eyes ...

[Weird. It's still really weird being shuffled around in someone's arms like this. He's so used to doing the shuffling and swinging. Maybe that's what he needs to do in retribution sometime soon, take Loki swinging. In the thwip-thwip kind of way... Not the other way. Maybe the other way.

He doesn't cling to Loki like a panicked cat, through the temptation is certainly there and scratching away at the back of his mind just a little bit, though it does abruptly snag on something Loki says as he leans back to look vaguely scandalised.]

Doe--?! I'm not a-- Like Bambi? I'm not like Bambi! [Processing...] Wait, in an adorable kind of way, a "it's hunting season" kind of way, or creepy crypid kinda way, because there's a lot of range there.

[And sure, he might just be letting his hand sneak around to finger-creep his way under Loki's shirt. Misdirection and all that.]

[ Loki laughs, shoulders wriggling as he feels Peter's fingers go exploring under his shirt. ]

A little bit of each, to be fair.

[ The bed looms cosy and morning-tossed, hardly made, and he tips Peter back onto it with a grin, crawling up between his legs to guide one around his hip. He draws in close for a slow, fond kiss, letting his hips sink forward to the same pull of tongue so that everything boils down to mouths and cocks and beautiful, beautiful brunettes with sticky fingers. ]

Peter, darling, [ a rumble of desire deepens Loki's voice an octave, ] I want you naked in the next ten seconds or I'm tearing apart your suit.

[There's definitely the temptation to just hang on with intentional sloth-like appeal, but with Loki being so keen to give into gravity Peter's fleeting sloth-cling dreams are dashed.

Which is probably for best for all involved because the moment Loki's weight lays upon him, Peter's hands find the Asgardian's sides in long, adoring strokes that hook an appreciative grip upon his hips to apply a satisfying, intimate mutual sway that pulls a hot sigh from Peter's lips before it melts into a soft chuckle before he reluctantly encourages Loki to sit back with some gentle encouragement from his hands pushing up.

It's in the service of meeting that request though--fingers finding the entry points to his suit to peel the material back like he's pulling off a layer of blue and red paint that's been applied to his slender, athletic form. Funnily enough, it's a pretty swift affair to get naked when you know a suit like that inside and out. And he knows it well enough that tossing it to the side when he's done wriggling and squirming his way out won't cause it any harm before he reaches toward Loki again with a kind of subdued greediness.]

Do I get to make the same threat toward your outfit, or you going to magic it away for me?

[ As much as he could lay over Peter and happily enjoy some A-grade frottage, he sighs in relief when nudged back and sits with a hand braced on their bed, unable to go further. His mouth dries out as he watches all that creamy skin revealed, looming in close when Peter reaches for him. Loki skims a palm up a bare thigh just to feel him, breath hitching with the hunger lodging inside him like a sharp hook toward his lover.

He smiles and his clothes appropriately turn to smoke, leaving him bare as he brings one of Peter's hands up to buss a kiss over his knuckles. ]

My clothes exist at your leisure, dear.

[ Manners are briefly buried as he gets between Peter's legs and bows him back down to the bed for a kiss rougher than before, demanding in the way Loki groans to feel Peter naked against him, gorgeous and wonderful and all his, touching him everywhere just to feel the warm strength in his arms and abs and chest, long legs like a cradle for a god. His lovely sweet spider, deserving of all the love Loki can provide. ]

[There are so many sides to Loki that it feels like every time Peter gets to steal more time with him another is revealed. And another. And another. And yet they're all equally so quintessentially Loki that each time it's jolt of provocative excitement rather than some kind of red flag of something Peter has overlooked. It's all Loki. So very Loki.

This particular brand of energy virtually radiating from the god is the kind that demands the pace of Peter's heart pick up.

There's no cheesy, cheeky little side comments now, nothing to deflect or joke around, just Loki, all stunning, and hot, and wanting. And who is Peter to deny his godling boyfriend anything at all?

And the kiss is head-spinning--the sort that has Peter's eyes rolling back as they close and he meets the strength and want at the level Loki brings it, savours all the long swathes of skin and every electric rush that runs through him whenever they connect. His arms loop around Loki's back and tug him in, tight and close and secure with a low groan from an especially delicious slide of their cocks.]

[ It's as electric as the first time, all the time, as if that neon sign charged them up with an unnaturally heady desire. It sweeps through Loki in waves, hot and desperate with the way they ride each others hips in perfect tandem, rubbing his cock alongside Peter's in a firm grind for longer than he really should if he wants to take this other places. His fingers splay and fit into the dips of Peter's ribs and Loki feels like he's finally home, knowing the exact layout of bone and muscle down a lean waist until he finds one of those delectable hips (mental note: kiss him there later until he gets tired of it) and leaves some scratches.

Biting Peter's lower lip to match the sweet roughness with a tug, Loki grins down. ]

ᛖᛒᚺᚦᚦ.

[ The spell coats his hand as it wraps around Peter's cock for a firm stroke, working him up with twists of Loki's warm, wet palm over the tip. ]

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( closed ) you know i'm not a saint

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