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batsutousaiTitle: Sin With a Grin
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Loki/Tom Hiddleston
Challenge: 30 Day NSFW OTP Challenge
Summary: For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding, Not Safe For Work edition.
Chapter Warnings: Whipping, repentance mentality, minor character death, hurt/comfort, past self-harm
A/N: This one actually kind of hurt to write.
You may want a tissue.
Another plan, purposefully flawed as all the others that Loki had ever concocted, was weaving around him. He laughed as he tossed some ice at Thor, subtly casting a spell to disable the Doombot aiming, unnoticed, at Barton. He hardly wanted the group of heroes dead, for all that his allies might, but they need never know that. And it ever amused Loki to play both sides of the field.
"Brother!" Thor roared, coming in fast and hard.
Loki cackled and teleported to a roof across the street from the one he'd been standing on, loving the sight of his brother crashing into the concrete. "You've missed Thor!" he called back, using Thor's momentary distraction to glance around the battlefield again.
He saw it just before Thor jumped from the rubble and came at him again: A child curled under an unsteady overhang, fire blazing around her. None of the Avengers had seen, too busy with the Doombots. Loki was about to teleport when Thor caught him around the chest, crushing the air from his lungs.
Loki shoved at his massive arm, snarling, "Let – me – go! You – oaf!"
"Not this time, Loki," Thor intoned, dropping his hammer and pulling something off his belt: manacles.
"No!" Loki shouted, shoving and squirming and staring down at that tiny figure.
The manacles clipped tight around his wrists, like the tolling of a death knell, as the overhang gave way and fell with a rush of sparks.
SHIELD had such a terrible track record for keeping him contained, Loki wondered why they even bothered. Still, a day in their current 'secret' base was a day's free range over their systems while they attempted to get answers out of his laughing clone. (One day, they might figure out that their 'anti-magic' cells didn't actually stop a number of his tricks, such as his shapeshifting, and most of his Jötunn magic. Not that Loki would be telling them; watching them scramble for explanations as to how he got out never grew old.)
The Avengers had gained a new member, so Loki read up on him. He also made sure they were still looking in entirely the wrong country for him, and made a note to send warning to Amora that she was about three days from being found. (Then again, letting Amora spend a week in a SHIELD cell would amuse him for months, especially since it meant she would owe him for helping her escape.) He slipped in a hint about how to better defeat the Doombots, since Victor had upgraded them again last week, covering most of the weaknesses they'd learned to aim for.
The last thing he did was look at the death count for the last battle: Five dead, two in critical condition, and thirty suffering from minor wounds. Digging a bit deeper, Loki found the name of the child he'd been unable to save and spent a long few minutes staring at it, burning it into his mind.
Thomas was waiting for him when he returned to their flat, the human wringing his hands in what had long become a familiar show of concern. He didn't approach, though, and followed at a distance when Loki walked into their bedroom, his armour and leathers giving way to the soft trousers Thomas had bought him, the back of the waist stained with rust-coloured blotches of old blood.
"One of the two in critical condition died about thirty minutes ago," Thomas said softly as Loki stopped in front of the magically strengthened rack attached to one wall of their bedroom. "The other one should make a full recovery."
Loki swallowed against the ash-like regret in his mouth. "Seven strikes," he ordered, his voice steady only through the force of his will.
"There were only six–"
"Seven strikes," Loki repeated.
Thomas was silent for a moment, then he moved closer, pulling out the whip from the drawer it was kept in. "Okay," he said.
The whip cracked, loud in the silence of their home, and a line of agony flared along Loki's back, from his right shoulder nearly to his left hip. He ground his teeth against the pain, clenching his hands as tight as he could against the rack.
"One," Thomas intoned, voice completely devoid of inflection.
The second strike crossed the first, going from left shoulder to right hip. The third and fourth strikes ran parallel to the first two. When the fifth landed perfectly between the first and third strikes, Loki realised his cheeks were wet, and he ducked his head with shame. The sixth was a little off-centre, landing too close to the fourth strike, and Loki whimpered.
There was a pause following the sixth, and just as Loki was preparing to snarl an order for his lover to do it, the whip landed, hard and unforgiving, directly along his spine. The snarl turned into a cry of pain, and Loki couldn't stop himself from slumping against the rack as Thomas intoned, "Seven," behind him.
Loki stayed there for a moment, hiding his weakness against the bars. Thomas didn't move behind him, knew better after so many – too many – of these events.
In the beginning, Thomas had been confused, hadn't understood why Loki asked him to whip him, and Loki could hardly explain, but Thomas also knew the god was hard to damage, so he'd agreed.
And then he'd found out that Loki had bound the whip with magic and steel meant to bite into his flesh. The human had been furious and refused to whip Loki again.
Until he'd found Loki cutting his penance into his chest with one of his daggers, so much deeper than the bite of a whip, and too close to his heart for the human's comfort. Thomas had agreed to land the lashes, then, trading it for Loki's oath that he wouldn't turn one of his daggers on himself again.
The human had also put forth one other condition: Once Loki had received his lashes and pushed away from the rack, Thomas could take care of him his way.
Loki took a great, gasping breath, then finally pushed himself away from the rack, stumbling from the expected flare of pain down his back at the movement.
Thomas was at his side in a heartbeat, the whip fallen to the floor. Gentle hands cupped Loki's face, thumbs rubbing along the trail of tears. "Hey, beautiful," the mortal whispered, eyes bright with concern and second-hand pain. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"
"Yeah," Loki croaked, and let Thomas lead him to the bathroom.
There, Thomas sat him down and carefully cleaned along the wounds on his back, lips pressing against the broken skin as Loki's breath hitched and he huddled against his knees as tight as he could. When everything was cleaned and kissed, Thomas covered the wounds with the sticking gauze he'd found to keep them covered and clean; the magic in the whip kept the wounds from healing as quickly as Loki normally did, and while he didn't care if they got infected – it would only be right, truly – he'd learned there were some things not worth butting heads with Thomas over.
With his wounds seen to, Thomas led Loki out to the kitchen, where he served up some soup and toast and scooted their chairs together to eat, arms bumping and legs pressed tight together from the knee down.
Last was to the bedroom, on their sides and facing each other on the bed. Thomas cupped Loki's cheek with one hand, foreheads pressing together, while his other hand pushed down Loki's trousers and took his cock in hand.
"I love you," Thomas whispered, giving a slow, careful stroke.
Loki whimpered and closed his eyes, pressing his nose tight against Thomas', as he began to respond to his lover's gentle touch.
"You're beautiful," Thomas continued. "Always so beautiful. Even while terrorising the Avengers, even like this, here, now."
Loki shuddered and pushed past the hand on his cheek to cover Thomas' mouth with his own, silencing his honeyed words. So cruel and wonderful at the same time, his Thomas.
Thomas didn't pull away to keep speaking, but he did use the hand on Loki's cheek to direct him to be more gentle, careful and kind; everything that Thomas always was. And Loki could never decide if he hated or loved the human for it.
Thomas refused to let Loki rush either the kiss, or the slow hand on his cock, though he'd tightened his fist enough that Loki began to feel the hum of pleasure build.
"I saw you," Thomas said when Loki finally let him speak again, breathless from the slow burn of pleasure. "No one else did – they never do – but I saw you take out that Doombot before it could use it's canon on Iron Man. And I saw that one fall just before reaching Hawkeye. And that rubble that almost hit Spider-Man–"
"Stop," Loki pleaded, fisting one hand in the fabric of Thomas' shirt, directly over the mortal's heart.
"And that dagger you threw, the one that got Thor to dodge the falling Doombot, I saw that, too."
Loki curled forward, pushing under Thomas' chin and pressing the crown of his head against the human's collarbone. A sob was caught in his throat, and he shook from the mix of pending orgasm and suppressed sobs.
"You're not a monster, Loki."
"Please," Loki whispered, knowing it would be too quiet for Thomas to hear.
"You don't deserve this," Thomas breathed, hand brushing through Loki's hair to cup the back of his neck, directly over the top of the gauze covering the centre lash.
Loki closed his eyes against tears.
"I love you, Loki," Thomas said again.
Like a trigger, Loki came with a sob, body spasming with his orgasm and the tears he couldn't hold back any more.
"I've got you," Thomas whispered against Loki's hair, holding the god with all the love and tenderness he didn't deserve. "I'm here, it's okay. I love you."
Loki curled tighter against his human to sob away the echoes of pain, the lives he couldn't save.
01 - Mutual Masturbation ||| 02 - Oral ||| 03 - First Time ||| 04 - Grinding ||| 05 - Toys
06 - Clothed - Getting Off ||| 07 - Handjob ||| 08 - Breathplay ||| 09 - Against the Wall ||| 10 - Striptease
11 - Dom-Sub ||| 12 - 69 ||| 13 - Rimming |||
16 - In a Public Place ||| 17 - Chains ||| 18 - Bathing ||| 19 - Outdoors ||| 20 - Bloodplay
21 - Double Penetration ||| 22 - Foodplay ||| 23 - Trying a New Position ||| 24 - Gagged ||| 25 - Petplay
26 - Comfort ||| 27 - Rough ||| 28 - Temperature Play ||| 29 - Phone Sex ||| 30 - Author's Choice
Masterlist
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