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“Will you finally let Daddy fuck you?”
Loki freezes. He knows this was bound to happen sooner or later, that Thor would get sick of waiting and ask him, but it doesn’t mean he’s in any way prepared for this.
“Come on, babe, feel how hard you’ve made me.” Thor grinds against him, and even through the thick fabric of Thor’s jeans, Loki can feel it all right—and it seems much, much larger than he remembers.
“W-we don’t have condoms,” he tries.
“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to use one. Besides, don’t you want to feel Daddy’s cock properly?”
Loki does—at least in theory—but all he can think of is what can go wrong. What’s more, he’s sore already from two of Thor’s fingers inside him; how could Thor’s cock possibly fit?
“Haven’t I been nice to you? Gave you expensive gifts and made you come so good just now, didn’t I?” Thor’s attacking his neck as he speaks, and he’s becoming careless with his teeth, mindless of the way that his rough stubble scratches against Loki’s skin. Then, abruptly, he draws back and looks at Loki with a grim expression on his face. “Or is it because you don’t love Daddy after all?”
“I do!” Loki exclaims, panicked that Thor might think otherwise. “But—”
“Then why won’t you let me fuck you?”
Loki doesn’t know how to explain it without making Thor mad at him, and he regrets so many things now: he shouldn’t have let Thor come over tonight, he shouldn’t have been such a tease—but it’s all too fucking late.
“Well?” Thor prompts, his tone flat and his eyes cold.
“Ok … b-but will you promise to be gentle?”
Thor’s answering grin sends a chill down Loki’s spine.
“Of course I will, babe,” he coos, gentle and loving, but the change in his demeanour is too sudden, too suspicious, and it doesn’t bring Loki any comfort at all. “Daddy’s gonna take such great care of you.”
With that, he tears off Loki’s panties and undoes his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. Loki squeezes his eyes shut as Thor brings his legs over his shoulders, and he can’t hold back a whimper when Thor guides himself inside.
Thor is big, and it hurts. The small amount of remaining slickness from before does nothing to ease the way, and even though Loki knows tensing will only make it worse, he can’t fight against the instinct to clench down and ward himself off from the invasion. Not that it is effective, anyway—Thor is undeterred and within seconds, he’s become fully sheathed.
“Fuck, babe … your pussy is so fucking tight,” Thor grunts, drawing back and pushing in, and he does it again, and again, until he has built up a strong rhythm and is pounding Loki into the bed.
Loki bites down on his lip hard in an attempt to distract himself from the pain, but it doesn’t help and on a particularly brutal thrust, he can’t take it anymore. “Daddy, you’re hurting me!”
“Shush, it’s supposed to.”
Loki doesn’t know if it’s true, but even if it were, Thor isn’t doing much to make it hurt less either. “You promised,” he pleads, “you promised you’d be—”
“Quit whining,” Thor says impatiently. “Do you want to make Daddy happy or not?”
Not if it’s like this, Loki thinks, but it’s selfish and he doesn’t dare say it out loud, and keeps his mouth shut and does his best to stay silent instead. Thor, on the other hand, is grunting and growling into his ear, telling him how good his pussy feels—hot and wet and perfect for his cock. These feral sounds and dirty words would normally get Loki’s panties soaking wet in seconds—but now, it only scares him. This isn’t the Thor that Loki knows, and certainly not the Thor that Loki trusts.
As Thor uses his body, Loki can only lie there, shaking in fear. What he’s afraid of, he isn’t even sure; he only knows that he has never, ever been so terrified in his life. At some point he’s started crying, and once he realises that Thor is blind to his tears, that Thor doesn’t care, Loki’s self-control breaks and his poorly muted whimpers quickly progress into full-blown sobs. Thor’s not even demanding that he shut up; he’s too far gone at this point, too focused on his own pleasure to pay attention to anything else—least of all whether Loki wants this or not.
It feels like this nightmare goes on for centuries. Then, Thor’s pace quickens and he hammers into Loki even more mercilessly than before—it signals that he’s close, but the knowledge that this is about to end doesn’t make the pain any more bearable for Loki—and suddenly, Loki is overcome by a fresh wave of panic.
“Please, you need to—you need to pull out!”
Thor doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard, fucking into him faster and faster and there’s the tell-tale intake of breath and he stills—
“No!” Loki thrashes under Thor, pushing at his shoulders and kicking him where he can reach—but it’s all useless, it’s all too late. When Thor comes, he’s buried to the hilt, and that is when Loki gives up the fight. He knows that Thor is groaning against his neck, he senses it when Thor finishes and pulls out, and he hears Thor’s whispered oh, fuck—but he feels strangely detached, like he’s watching all of this as an outsider.
He comes back to himself when Thor cups a hand around his cheek. Somehow, his body manages to not flinch from the touch. But how he wants to—he wants to put all the distance in the world between Thor and himself, or maybe, he wants to dig his nails into Thor’s face and make him bleed—
“Baby…” Thor says, “Daddy will take care of you. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I promise.”
Thor is so gentle, his eyes so earnest, and his voice so soft. Loki finds it almost easy to believe.