Chapter Text
Call it whatever you may
Some kind of witchcraft is what I’d say
I wouldn’t dare to fall in love
I swear you tricked me to feel this way
--“Witchcraft” by The Royalty
Loki takes the stairs in threes up to the backdoor of Thor’s apartment; he’s been needing tonight for days—a minor conflict at work somehow exploded into a six-way email conversation (plus three separate phone calls) between colleagues and respective bosses, plus the dreaded Head of Human Resources. Then the boss of Loki’s entire department had sent out an ambiguous email suggesting they meet to discuss “what transpired last Friday” in person.
It was phrased as a suggestion. Translation: It was a demand.
The only ambiguity Loki handles well is the kind he doles out. Just yesterday he canceled his annual physical exam; he doesn’t want to hear his General Practitioner (GP) say shit about his blood pressure.
His skin is crawling with it. He had to double his anti-anxiety medication just to sleep at all since the seemingly innocuous work incident began. But Thor will make him feel safe; Daddy will make it better with his big, heavy arms and sweet, rumbling voice. Thor will take control and vanquish all the nervous chatter in Loki’s head and give him calm—and at least one fantastic orgasm.
Daddy. Loki whines involuntarily at just the name as he knocks on the door. Stupid Thor being stupidly good at the whole “Daddy” business just from babysitting his younger brother Baldr. Thor plays “Daddy” like a professional despite being 30 and childless. Like it was simply intuitive for him, fuck.
Soon he hears footsteps. This close to comfort and Loki’s eyes begin to sting.
If anyone could see him now, or what he is about to willingly, eagerly do with Thor, he would buy a gun.
The door opens and there is Thor, standing tall, smiling, and looking gorgeous in just a tight gray shirt and jeans. His smile drops when he sees Loki's face.
“One second,” Loki mutters as he brushes past him. He fishes his wallet and keys out of the pockets of his neatly pressed pants and places them on a bookshelf. On his phone, he selects the file he wants, and hands it to Thor without looking at him.
“Read this to me at a slow, even pace in your best ‘soothing Daddy’ voice,” he instructs as he begins removing his black leather shoes and undoing the buttons on his sleeve cuffs. His stomach feels like a solid block and his chest is tight.
“But don’t modify the script. I won’t hear a single ‘baby’, ‘little boy’, or ‘baby boy’.”
“Seems doable,” Thor replies as he reads over the script.
“I didn’t think you’d have a problem with this,” Loki says, rolling his eyes.
Thor waits until Loki is as comfortable as he is going to be; hyperventilating and tense from head to toe even as he sits cross-legged on a cushion on the floor of what normally feels like a safe space. Thor sits in front of him in the same position, close enough so their kneecaps touch. He holds the phone at a good height for reading and places his free hand against the small of Loki’s back.
“Lean into me now,” Thor instructs, applying gentle pressure when Loki does not immediately yield. Thor guides him so their foreheads are resting comfortably against each other’s, all the better to bask in Thor’s rich, resonant voice.
He’s very good at this, Loki thinks with some small amount of glee. Thor has a beautiful voice—and an even better “Daddy voice”, one that causes him to melt everywhere except his cock.
Loki has never taken particularly well to breathing exercises or solo meditation. But a voice—a deep, soothing voice leading him through a guided meditation—that he will eat right up. Being the one in control is comforting and helps him prevent a lot of anxiety, but to bring him back down from when he’s very anxious, nothing is more pleasurably effective as submitting to someone who is as caring as he is commanding. And sexy. Thor.
The first reading is not enough to relax him, so when Thor finishes the script, Loki squeezes Thor’s thigh three times to signal him to continue. Thor reads the script a little more slowly each time, his voice a little deeper with each repetition, but the weight of his hand on Loki’s shoulder is resolute, anchoring him to earth.
By the time Thor finishes the fourth reading, Loki’s skin is no longer crawling and his breathing is almost slow. Almost safe and somewhat tense, yet calm. Accurate, if not logical. Perhaps it’s just the residual adrenaline slower to catch up.
“I’ve never seen you this anxious before,” Thor comments mildly.
Loki snorts. “I’m glad you didn’t know me in high school. ‘Anal retentive’ was my default setting.”
“Did therapy help?”
“To a limited degree. I think most of my improvement came from developing actual self-confidence in college. I went from a habitually nervous wreck to almost calm.” Loki waggles his eyebrows to underscore the pathetic nature of that personal victory and Thor chuckles.
Loki sighs. “This is stupid. It’s just a meeting between professionals. They just want to pin down what happened and prevent repeats.”
“Everyone has their own problems,” Thor offers.
“I know. But it’s just so fucking stupid,” Loki mutters as he scrubs his face. “That things like this can still fuck me up this much. It’s like suddenly being back in high school…”
“Makes you grateful for the way you are now most days.”
“Yeah…” Loki sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Still makes me feel like an idiot.”
“I’m afraid you’re only an amateur idiot and I must advise you keep your day job,” Thor says with a winsome smile. Damn him.
Loki snorts, Thor chuckles; Loki gives him what is perhaps his first genuine smile in days and Thor grins broadly back at him.
“Want to cuddle?” Thor asks. Loki lets him wrap his arms around him and pulls Thor sideways onto the floor with him. Thor huffs in consternation at lounging against a cold tile floor instead of the king-size bed just a few feet away, but his grumbling dwindles as they snuggle up. As the blond hairs tickle Loki’s nose, he feels the nervous tension fade from his muscles and the tightness in his chest disappears.
“It’s comfy…” Loki croons, savoring both the cold, hard floor and the warm, pliant body with which he is entwined.
“You’re so weird,” Thor chuckles.
Loki pushes himself up onto his hands to properly glare down at him, a mock-serious expression on his face.
Thor rolls his eyes. “As always, I like it.”
“Yeah, you stop that doubt-train before it starts, you dick…” Loki pinches him playfully and lies back down.
“I’ve liked your weirdness from the day we met, you know that.”
“What? I wasn’t weird when we met!”
“True, but I could tell. ‘This guy’s going to surprise me’ – my first thought upon seeing you, honest to God,” Thor teases as he squeezes Loki.
“I like surprises.”
Loki snorts. “Lucky you.”
They have a nice cuddle there on the floor, but in time Loki grows restless. Tonight could be extra fun; Thor texted him to let him know the couple in the apartment above them was on vacation and the one below is now vacant; they can make as much noise as they want. He tries to entice Thor with salacious ideas of what they might do together tonight, but Thor is content where he is and makes no sign of moving, which is a bit unusual for him.
Loki lightly presses his fingertips to the bottoms of Thor’s bulging pectoral muscles. He waits a long moment, savoring the peace and the fact that Thor has lowered his guard. Then he starts pinging Thor’s cleavage, flicking his fingers against the nipples and the cleft, faster and harder the more Thor tries to ignore it.
“How is business, Mr. Airline Ticket Sales?” Loki teases, pinging away. “How is working remotely? How are the toothless, Texan families wanting a taste of real European culture for the first time in their lives? How’s the home gym? Did your GP call you back about your lipid panel yet?”
“Oh my god,” Thor groans. Loki smirks as Thor shifts to smother him under his bodyweight. Loki keeps flicking him until his hands are flattened along with the rest of him under the prodigious weight, until Thor is literally lying fully on top of him.
“Oof… Yum!”
~
It’s kind of complicated. They normally do scenes in which they role play some variation on the basic Authoritative Father-Figure dominates Submissive Younger-Guy scenario. But some of their scenes are a different kind of role play, not simply stepping into a shallow role for a little while but accessing personas manifesting some deeply personal aspects of themselves. Loki cannot pinpoint when it started, but increasingly he and Thor have been foregoing their scenario role plays in favor of Thor simply playing affectionate, nurturing, and supportive “Daddy” to Loki’s nervous and needy “babyboy” persona. It’s confusing and a bit frightening to Loki because it involves something like regression on his part on top of a more intimate level of submission to Thor, but on the other hand these interactions are sweet and touching in a way their erotic scenario role plays aren’t. After they discussed this development, Loki learned Thor apparently finds them as profoundly rewarding and comforting as he does. Thor has had relationships with men who identify as “littles” before, so of course he would be comfortable with it… But Loki would still feel humiliated about the “little babyboy” persona thing if he couldn’t write it off as just, um, as merely…
Anyway, tonight, they’re doing a scenario role play.
“All right, have we forgotten anything?” Thor asks. “How do you feel about starting?”
“I’m ready,” Loki replies as he walks over to the back door to the stairwell. He faces the door, resting his forehead against it and running over the scenario in his head. He pushes the world away and finds his way into his character for the scene: seventeen, rebellious, and going to be free from his rigid, authoritarian Stepfather’s control in five months when he moves across the country for college. But he’s not as keen to escape his Stepfather’s iron fist as he likes to pretend…
He bites his lip as he feels his palms begin to grow sweaty, as a pleasant, thrumming tension starts to seep into his muscles. He is about to be manhandled and taken by a massive wall of brutish, angry, and strangely possessive Stepfather he can’t even fathom why his mother likes. His Stepfather, Thor, is a jerkwad, a callous, burly man with thick arms and meaty thighs, whose eyes follow Loki’s ass even as he berates him for wearing pants so tight they might as well be a neon sign. An intimidating, imposing man with thick fingers all but shattering his coffee mug on workday mornings when he spies the hickeys on Loki’s neck. A stubborn, grunting bull of a man used to giving orders and easily enraged by insubordination. An oaf who hypocritically claims to hate Loki’s long hair and yet tousles it whenever it’s freshly wet from the shower, his fingers catching in sought-after snarls, lingering with the allure of the control this grip could afford him if he only closed his fist.
Loki would love to return the gesture, get his fingers caught up in his Stepfather’s long, golden locks. If only insubordination wasn’t just as fun as obedience.
But no, his Stepfather is too chicken to act upon what’s been so plainly brewing between them for the past year.
The feeling of his Stepfather’s breath puffing against the back of his neck draws Loki back to the present.
“Thor?” he asks, without turning from the door.
He feels his Stepfather’s hand on his collarbones, his ring and little fingers slipping underneath the neck of Loki’s shirt. He presses Loki against the door. “What did I tell you to call me?” he asks.
“Something you’re not,” Loki grunts as he is pressed harder into the door.
“Really? Paying your bills, keeping a roof over your head, teaching you how to be a man. Sounds like a daddy to me,” Thor says, his words muffled by Loki’s hair.
“I know who my Daddy is and I love him. I would do anything for my real Daddy,” Loki taunts, his glee as much as his youthful recklessness inspiring him to rub his ass just a little against his Stepfather.
Thor growls, but his anger at being denied is dampened by the invitation of Loki’s body and his grip tightens slightly. “Huh, I guess you would,” Thor says, pushing his hips forward to meet him. “Wonder what he did to make you so devoted. Would you let him do anything to you?” His free hand slips down Loki’s belly, slipping under the waistband of his pants. When he struggles, Thor only presses him harder against the door, until he is trapped between two unyielding surfaces.
“Mom?!” Loki shouts, adrenaline surging through his veins. He never thought Thor would really—
Thor chuckles darkly, the sound coming right beside his ear. “Your mother isn’t here, won’t be back from her conference until Sunday.”
Loki’s stomach flips.
“Happy Friday.”
Loki tries to pull away, but Thor catches both his wrists in his hand. “Now let’s just see, son,” Thor laughs as he presses his free hand back down into Loki’s pants. Thor hums as his fingers grasp his erection.
“Someone likes Daddy more than he lets on.” The hand on Loki’s cock tightens and begins to stroke. “And here I was, thinking you liked teasing me with what I couldn’t have: prancing around in those tight clothes, showing off the marks those boys left on you; you were theirs. But now I see you were just goading me, hoping my self-control would snap.”
Thor gives his cock a pleasant squeeze, his hand so hot Loki bucks his hips with a soft whine.
“Well, my control hasn’t snapped, son,” Thor murmurs into his ear. “You’re not a whore for those boys. For the next two days, you’re just a whore for Daddy.”
His Stepfather withdraws his hand and pins him against the door with his shoulder as he reaches around to unfasten his pants. They fall to his ankles, followed by his boxers, and then Thor only releases him to yank his shirt off. He flips Loki around to face him and crowds him against the door, their foreheads touching.
“You’re going to be a really good boy for me, aren’t you?” Thor taunts, one hand trailing near Loki’s hard, vulnerable cock. Resistance be damned; Loki nods promptly.
“Good boy,” Thor says encouragingly, “But we’ll have to see just how good you’ll be for me, hmm?”
Thor takes his hands and leads him farther into the room, until Loki’s toes are brushing against the cushion from earlier that ‘just happens’ to be right where his Stepfather wants him. He places his hand on his shoulder, pressing downward with such force Loki bends his knees instinctively before he can think. Shivering, Loki kneels on the cushion, bringing his eyes right to the level of the large bulge straining against the fabric of Thor’s pants.
“Show me what a good, devoted son you can be, now,” Thor says as he unzips and pulls forth his erection from the folds of his clothing. “Worship my cock, son.”
Loki stares at it, the tip around the slit is shiny with the beginnings of precome, and the rest of it is heavy with blood, thick, and uncut. He doesn’t believe he can fit the whole thing inside even if he deepthroats, which, naturally, is what Thor forces him to do the second he opens his mouth.
Loki gags on it, his throat muscles clenching reflexively around the thick head thrust past his tonsils as his eyes roll from the sudden swap of oxygen for nausea. Because his Stepfather is such a kind, gentle soul, he’s also gripping Loki around the neck, his thumb resting just above his Adam’s apple. A handhold and a threat in one, how quaint.
Loki groans, his skin tingling and his cock rock-hard—fucking asshole, he thinks.
Don’t ever change...
Thor pulls back enough to let him breathe and thrusts more shallowly a few times until he is content to let Loki do as he ordered. Thor keeps one hand around Loki’s neck as he begins to apply his tongue, lips, and fingers to the big dick’s proportional namesake. Loki hopes if he suckles and licks well enough, Thor will be appeased and let him take breaks to lick the underside and kiss the head, which he does. From the little sounds his Stepfather is making, he is doing well, and the circumstance notwithstanding, those little sounds cause flutters in Loki’s belly.
He glances up, sees how his Stepfather’s stormy face has softened—with darkening eyes, heavy lids, parted lips, from face-fucking his stepson. Loki moans, his heart jumping.
He takes it in his mouth again and his cheeks hollow out under the sheer amount of suction he applies to the head. Thor groans loudly as Loki pushes the foreskin back behind the cock head with his just his tongue, then sucks with enough force to pull the skin right back over again. He bobs his head, fighting against insubordination in favor of playing at devotion, taking rising satisfaction in watching Thor’s blue irises slowly disappear behind his pupils.
He bristles before he feels it, seeing Thor’s free hand reach around the back of Loki’s head to grab his hair. But he seems content with the visual and the latent threat rather than actually using it for control for now, so Loki makes certain to bob his head faster, taking as much cock inside as he can.
The hand on his neck tightens slightly and Thor pulls out. As Loki gasps and gulps, his Stepfather guides the sticky, weeping tip of his cock and smears precome and spit all over his face until he’s a mess.
Loki wonders if he’s going to make him swallow his cum, too, but it is not to be. Thor pulls away and hauls him up to kiss him, his arms cinching around the small of Loki’s back. The only struggle Loki puts up is internal; he can’t decide if he wants to make his asshole Stepfather angrier or taste the thrill of surrender. His stomach flutters wildly as his lips yield to Thor’s, complicit in being consumed, letting his Stepfather shove his tongue as deep inside him as he wants.
Thor tosses him onto the bed and quickly manhandles him onto his elbows and knees on the mattress, straddling the backs of Loki’s calves and manacling his wrists so he can gain no leverage. Loki whimpers when he hears the sound of a bottle cap opening and soon a warm, slick finger is pressing at his hole. Loki can’t decide if he’s more turned on or frightened that this awful brute has finally done it, but once he’s breached, it feels hot inside, almost burning and he gasps for air as the muscles yield to the intrusion. Almost too soon, he is sucking air back into his lungs, stretching them full as one finger becomes two, then three, rocking back and forth into him, slicking him, making him ready to be what his Stepfather wants.
Thor manhandles Loki onto his back, quickly pinning his thin wrists above his head and tilting his pelvis upward. Thor bears down on him, his burning blue eyes locked on Loki’s, as he takes his big, slick cock in hand and guides it into the puffy, swollen hole. Loki bites his lip, trying to resist, but once Thor gets deep enough, he can’t anymore: his eyes roll up, he flushes all over, and his mouth opens wide in an involuntary, from-the-bottom-of-his-lungs sigh. He loves getting fucked.
Thor groans as he slowly pulls back out and Loki’s eyes open to watch the brute on top of him. Burly. Mean and larger than life, lined with muscle after muscle Loki can never hope to overpower. Fucking him. Making him take it.
Thor presses back in and Loki releases a sweet, rapturous sigh. He hasn’t even honed in on his prostate yet—there’s just something about him being inside, so big and making him… Thor pulls out until just the head is within Loki’s hole and shoves back in to the hilt. Loki swears aloud, does it again but wordlessly when Thor fucks in once more.
“Knew you’d be loud for me, just the way Daddy likes,” Thor rumbles, loosening his hold on Loki’s wrists just slightly. Loki tilts his chin up, lips parted, asking for a kiss.
“Oh, baby wants his Daddy now? Feeling a little more dutiful now that Daddy’s made you feel so nice?” Thor taunts with the smirk of a lifelong bully plastered on his face. “Call me ‘daddy’.”
Loki doesn’t, but his Stepfather is too heady from his victory to care, and he leans down to kiss him anyway. His lips are lovely and warm but insistent upon his mouth and Loki complies with whatever pace and amount of tongue Thor wants, moaning and gasping into him as he resumes thrusting into his hole. There is so much lube Thor’s cock is displacing from inside, he hears an embarrassing squelching sound each time Thor fully submerges his dick. Thor keeps fucking him, at once pinning and kissing him, as he gradually builds up speed. Loki’s knees are slowly brought closer to his ears until his Stepfather is fucking downward into him, trapping him, slamming him down into the mattress.
Thor pulls out and manhandles him onto his hands and knees, presses a firm hand down onto the small of Loki’s back to make him present his ass at the most convenient angle. Now they are facing the full-length mirror beside the bed: Loki cannot escape the sight or feeling of his Stepfather and Thor won’t lose a shred of Loki’s responses. It’s all his.
His mouth lolling open, Loki instinctively spreads his legs wider to allow him deeper access. Thor accepts this act of submission and starts cramming his cock back inside. And, oh, he loved what they were doing before but there’s something about this position that makes him ecstatic. Thor slams his hips into his ass with each powerful thrust, an unending succession of collisions that makes his flesh shake, vibrations reaching all the way to his belly and shaking everything that can feel good inside.
“Your father’s long gone, but there’s another daddy right here paying you all this attention, giving you some love,” his Stepfather growls as his cock sends shockwaves of pleasure through Loki’s body. “Call me ‘daddy’, baby.” He takes Loki’s wrists and holds them firmly against the small of his back. Now Loki can’t even lean away, it’s physically impossible for him to be anything other than impaled on his Stepfather’s cock.
But before Loki even has a chance to comply, Thor begins ramming into him, ripping cries from him, slamming him so hard Loki can’t fit his mouth around the word.
Thor reaches around and presses his index and middle finger against Loki’s mouth. “Suck,” he orders. Loki promptly takes the digits in his mouth and sucks them hard and deep, relishing how big and filling they feel. He looks up at their reflection in the mirror and the sight makes his eyes glaze and his body turn to warm fuzzies and blitzes of pleasure.
He stares dazedly at his Stepfather, expression stormy and his heavy gaze unshakable as he fucks into him on the bed. All of that muscle rhythmically straining as he takes him, his shoulders so broad when the pale body beneath him seems so little. Loki sees the flushing cheeks, the curl of his lips as he moans above him, louder whenever Loki squeezes his cock inside. His Stepfather has wanted him a long time and now Loki cannot break free. Finally Thor is taking what he wants, making Loki accept his dick, demanding that Loki like it as he shoves his thick, heavy cock as deep as can be inside him. It sends a ripple of pleasure through his body and this, too, belongs to Thor; even the choice to like it is no longer Loki’s own.
Thor’s fingers come out with a ‘pop’, leaving Loki mewling from the loss.
“Aw, what’s wrong, baby?” his Stepfather taunts, “You like being stuffed from both ends? You want some more?” Thor gives his ass a sharp slap and firmly kneads the stinging flesh. “You know what to do, baby.”
Loki shivers, eyeing Thor in the mirror. He’s such a big brute, he could give him much more.
“Daddy,” he whines, lowering his head. “Daddy, please…”
Thor must like that word; he moans and his pace quickens, but not enough.
“Ask nicely for my cock and I will consider it.”
Loki blushes bright red—ooh, what a bully!
“Daddy, will you please stuff me with your cock?”
He catches the glint in Thor’s eye in the mirror. “You don’t sound convincing, son…”
“Please give it to me, Daddy, I need it, I need your cock and your cum all deep inside me!” Loki pleads.
“Good boy.”
“Fuck—“ Loki’s gasp turns into a shout as he is roughly thrust forward by a powerful slam of Thor’s hips. Thor starts banging him, making his eyes roll as he pummels his sweet spot with his cock. He can’t even brace with Thor holding his arms behind his back; he is powerless, vulnerable, and completely open to him. He has no words left as Thor keeps slamming into him, his reply to each pounding only a plaintive, wordless cry that seems to spur Thor on as he towers over him, bending forward to grip him by the back of the neck for more control.
That possessive gesture is just about doing it for him so Loki bites the duvet between his teeth to stifle his rising moans. He’s close, he can see the finish line, he’s so close—
“Your ass is so tight, you’re going to wring the cum right out of me. You want Daddy to make your ass all sloppy with his cum? You want Daddy to fill you up?”
Loki screams into the duvet, his cum spurting from his cock as his ass cinches tighter around Thor. Thor groans from the sudden squeeze, but he lets out a shout as he comes, thrusting balls-deep as it breaks over him. He releases Loki’s arms as he rests his weight against his back, following as he slumps down into the mattress. Loki’s small, pleased sounds from the beginnings of his afterglow are echoed by Thor as the last of his cum is milked from his cock.
“Ah, fuck, Loki,” Thor pants as he slowly withdraws. He carefully removes the condom and leans over to drop it in the waste bin at the foot of the bed before tugging Loki close. They rest like that for a while, coming back down, catching their breaths as languor overtakes them.
But when Thor rolls Loki over to face him, the expression on his face tells Loki which version of ‘Daddy’ he’s about to get; it sends both a pleasant shiver and a spark of energy through him. Giddy and giggling like a kid, he makes as if to wriggle away.
“No, no,” Thor admonishes gently. “Let Daddy kiss you, sweetie.”
Fuck, Thor's Daddy Voice—it turns Loki's insides to warm honey. Not honey warmed in a microwave, but properly: in a pot over a gas stove, with a pat of French butter mixed in.
Loki immediately gives up his play-fight and purrs as Thor peppers his face with soft kisses.
“How is your throat feeling, baby? Would you like Daddy to get you some honey for it?” Thor offers as he cuddles him up. He alternates between giving light, brief tickles and plenty of kisses. He praises Loki for being such a good sub, his good babyboy, and this would enhance Loki’s good mood, were it not for the sudden, strange sensation of coldness prickling at his palms and spreading.
All too soon the scene will be over and he will go back home. There, all he will have to look forward to are sleepless nights and the return of his anxiety, his worry, his self-doubt; the overwhelming feeling of smallness and fragility. He cannot take his Daddy with him. Suddenly hyperaware of the shit that will ensue upon his departure, his chest grows tight again, extinguishing the pleasantness of their scene and freezing all that honey solid.
~
Thoroughly pleased and overflowing with warmth for his babyboy, Thor is not quite done seeing to his sweetie—not by a long shot if he has his way—when he notices the change in him. Thor pulls back to check him over, concerned and searching his face after Loki stops responding.
The muscles in Loki’s jaw clench and Thor instinctively reaches out to soothe the distress he sees there, to smooth away the tension and tuck him against his chest, whether that ‘him’ is Loki the 27 year old graphic artist working in advertizing or Loki’s “little self” he began revealing a couple months ago. But when his fingers touch his fair skin, Loki rolls to the other side of the bed and reaches for his pants.
“Is something on your mind?” Thor asks conversationally.
“Always,” Loki replies curtly, his eyes and fingers devoted to buttons and zippers.
“You’re normally relaxed afterward…”
“Well, I’m not today,” Loki scoffs.
“Have you had time to see Amora or Helblindi recently?” he tries again. He learned months ago the only friends Loki keeps are very close ones, although from what Loki has told him, Thor still struggles to picture Amora smiling.
Loki turns fully away from him as he dons his work shirt.
“So your anxiety is back already?”
Thor sees the very beginnings of a shudder before Loki suppresses it; the sight makes Thor’s heart hurt. Oh, sweetie…
Thor rises and tugs on his boxers before going to him. “Hey,” he says softly as he tries to sidle into Loki’s field of vision. But Loki turns aside to grab his watch off the dresser, and then his coat from a chair when Thor catches up with him again.
Loki is a master at this but his winces are growing more pained the longer this goes on. When Thor lays his hands on him, the sheer rigidness in Loki makes him angry. He pulls Loki into his arms, bringing him flush against his chest so their foreheads touch. “Hey,” he tries again.
Unlike Loki’s relationship with his little-self, Thor fully accepts that he’s a “Daddy”; it’s a mindset and a way of life of needing to care for, nurture, and protect someone special. And Loki is indeed special.
Now Loki is completely rigid partly because of him, yet Thor does not let go. He likes to think he knows him well enough by now, but he wishes he would just ask for help instead of doing this. It’s like he thinks care comes with a heaping ladleful of judgment.
~
Thor asking him to be emotionally vulnerable outside of a scene. It’s a distressing thought, but so shortly after a scene, Loki can’t think ‘Thor’ without thinking ‘Daddy’ and that damned safety he feels in his Daddy’s arms is too dangerously appealing right now. It’s no longer simply the tight, certain strength of Thor’s arms around him, it is the layers of associative meaning from the four months they have been enjoying their kinks together. His embrace is perfect now, making it so hard to hide and yet Loki cannot afford to let himself be found. He wants to shut Thor out, but he wishes Thor would push his way in and make him.
But they are no longer in a scene; what they do is real now, their actions suddenly meaningful. Alluring and terrifying.
Loki is more than this “little” weakness: he is capable, he is whole, and he will not have Thor’s pity. If he can just wait it out another twenty minutes, this wrenching impulse to curl up in Thor’s arms and never, ever leave will pass. And he can go home brittle but saved from being the cause of someone’s disappointment.
It would be unspeakably easier if Thor hadn’t wrapped his stupid arms around him.
“Loki, you’re clearly upset. I can’t let you drive like this,” Thor says firmly. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, I want to hear it. Are you worried you’ll be fired?”
“The event itself wouldn’t merit termination! But these fools are all behaving—“
“And how have you been handling that at home?”
Loki stiffens, but the longer he is silent, the higher Thor’s hand creeps towards his hair. Then he’s petting him and teasing his scalp with his nails just the way—god damn him. A cascade of lovely shivers; he begins to melt against his will.
“How has your insomnia been since the thing at work?” Thor asks.
“The worst it’s been in years. Even with full doses of Klonopin and double doses of melatonin, my sleep is still fucked…”
He sees the hint of the frown Thor is trying to conceal. After the first time Loki admitted to using Klonopin, the oaf had looked it up and discovered how addictive its entire class of drug was. Thor didn’t stop giving him worried looks and Dad-lectures for weeks—but what was the surprise there?
“Are you eating?”
“I’m vomiting,” Loki offers cheerfully.
Now Thor’s lips turn downward and his brow furrows. The hand teasing Loki’s scalp descends to massage his neck as he thinks, although what the hell he thinks he can do is beyond Loki.
“We both have Monday off,” Thor says slowly, “You could spend the weekend here and we could try something freeform.”
Loki tries to shove Thor away. “No. I am not doing a 24/7 D/s relationship. You will never own me.”
“That was not my intent! I was just thinking we could…try something where when you need a Daddy, I can already be there to do that.” Thor’s thumb ghosts over his skin and he adds softly, “Whenever.”
“I am not a little!” Loki hisses. Thor wisely keeps his mouth shut, although it’s plain as day how hard he’s working to maintain his silence. Loki elects to ignore this.
He looks him over warily. “You want to try living together, but not as a purely D/s arrangement?”
Thor smiles a little sheepishly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Think of it as a little trip: you get to relax at my apartment, a Daddy to care for you when you want it, we can spend time together however we feel comfortable…”
“And if at the end of the weekend I don’t like it, then what? We can discuss returning to casual scenes?”
Thor winces. He squeezes Loki in a seemingly meaningful way. “If you found you weren’t interested, I don’t think we could do scenes anymore.”
Oh.
Their relationship has blossomed into a genuine if incredibly flirty friendship, as all the texting and calls made apparent…
But for the same reason he is skittish about making his scenes with Thor more than that, Loki has only ever consented to be play partners with Doms before; he has never had a romantic relationship with one.
His heartbeat grows too loud in his head for him to hear his own thoughts. He swallows, eyes dropping to the slopes of Thor’s shoulders as he nervously fingers the freckles there.
“Loki, I’m getting signals that maybe you want this, too. I want to be there for you.”
That would make the emotional vulnerability real, not to mention amplify the temptation to give in to certain “little”-related longings. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.
Yet the prospect of unlimited access to a Daddy’s heart boasted a persuasive appeal to the anxiety-riddled submissive.
Loki swallows again, his skin flushing. “I’m uncertain I can flow in and out of my babyboy persona like that,” he admits quietly. No Dom is interested in a shitty sub.
“It will be a little awkward at first for me, too. I won’t be comfortable dominating or disciplining you until we’re both comfortable. We can use ‘Daddy’ as a signal of consent: When you can’t bring yourself to call me ‘Daddy’, we’ll just spend time together being vanilla. Is that clear, baby?” Thor asks.
Oh, and just listen to him, already softening his tone and dropping pitch to that hypnotic, Daddy-like rumble. Fuck.
“But you have to be willing to give consent, sweetie. I need you to call me ‘Daddy.’”
Loki bites his lip, his own longing and the alluring, sweet tone of Thor’s voice pulling at his core. And ‘Daddy’—it’s the sexiest, most emotionally persuasive word in the English language.
But it’s different now; he is surrendering something new and he quails at the prospect. He dearly wants Thor to persuade him, and he desperately hopes Thor does not know that.
“It’s only one kind of agony or another,” Loki grits out. “You must have gathered by now I’m not the naturally open sort…”
“I know, I know, my babyboy,” Thor murmurs as he kisses Loki’s forehead. His lips press against one of his sweet spots, his ‘third eye’—that magical, touch-tender patch of sensitive skin between and just above his brows. Shivers and pleasurable shocks run down Loki’s insides at the contact. Fuck!
“We can’t do this unless you can voice what you want.”
“As if my frequent returns don’t make it painfully obvious,” Loki grumbles into Thor’s shoulder.
“I need you to be able to say it,” Thor tells him. Loki whimpers as Thor’s lips gently press against the shell of his ear while his nose nuzzles into another sweet spot on his scalp. “Call me ‘Daddy’, honey.”
Why did Thor have to know him so well...
“Daddy can’t wait to make dinner for his babyboy and tuck him into bed tonight. Daddy has been wondering what kind of bedtime story you like,” Thor murmurs. “But he can’t tuck you in unless you consent.”
He barely holds in his whine; this is the most humiliating sexy talk he has ever loved.
Loki savors the sweet softness of Thor’s kisses on his brow. Thor, his Daddy. His could-be Daddy every day; he will read Loki bedtime stories and comfort him by covering his cheeks with slow, soft kisses if Loki only asks. And before he even needs to ask, too. His knees begin to feel weak.
But Loki has no history of being pleasing to others, or of admitting to things he’d prefer not to acknowledge about himself. If he’s not forthcoming or submissive enough, Thor might lose interest and the shame of being a disappointment, passed over… But then refusal means alone with the perpetual worry in his head.
His stomach lurching, he clutches Thor’s shoulders tightly, trying to—he doesn’t even know what.
Loki buries his face in Thor’s neck, breathes deep the mixture of mild musk and faded cologne. Thor’s been wearing that same scent for Loki every time since he said it was his favorite. They would have their scenes with that enchanting mixture of Thor’s individual smell and this fragrance hanging in the air, stronger the closer Loki drew to his Daddy’s warmth. It would sink into his work clothes—Loki usually came straight from the office—and for days afterward the occasional whiffs he’d get working at his desk were almost a proxy for the easy warmth of Thor’s presence; the rich, resonant tone with which he called him ‘baby’ during their post-coital cuddles; the sheer calm Loki felt whenever they stood in the same room; the complete serenity he knew only when locked in his Daddy’s arms.
He could keep that feeling, or not.
Loki’s knees begin shaking and his arms tighten around Thor.
“Daddy,” he whimpers into Thor’s shoulder. “Daddy, please take care of me…”
“Oh, sweetie!” Thor purrs as he squeezes him. “You’ve made Daddy so happy, baby! Daddy is so proud of you.” He kisses Loki’s cheeks the way that leaves tingles spreading from his skin into his core. Loki leans into the kisses, tightening his grip, craving more.
It is sweet—too sweet, and all this loveliness of giving in is not enough to suppress the frisson of fear and shame racing down his spine. He is nearly melting under the combined sweet of his Daddy’s kisses and approval. But if anyone ever found out, ever saw—no, god, no, he can’t shake the hair-raising feeling of being watched—Loki squirms in raw shame, breaking out of Thor’s hold.
Positive Health Behaviors 0, Anxiety 1: Loki is fleeing Thor’s apartment with record speed.