Get On Your Knees and Pray to me By Shining Loki On AO3

Chapter 13 - The Art Of Getting Choked - And Not Even In The Kinky Way

But more than that, he was Loki. He was someone who hated mint but loved chocolate. He laughed at corny jokes and listened to songs ten times on repeat just because he enjoyed the way a single note had been sung. He listened intently, always nodding his head or narrowing his eyes, and he always thought before speaking. He got angry when you bit your lip and happy when you rested your head on his shoulder. He loved kissing the top of your head and perhaps loved it even more when you kissed the top of his - when you could reach it, that is. He was a pop-culture fanatic, a history buff, and an astronomy nerd. He likes his eggs well done and his steak still bleeding. He liked using magic for literally everything except taking your clothes off - he said he liked watching your skin slowly become revealed from underneath the layers of fabric you wore.

And really, he was making it damn hard not to fall for him.

Because the truth was it had been just over a week of knowing him, and that feeling of adoration lingered in your heart, but something more was there - something you couldn't explain. It was affection, admiration, passion. It was...something. Something you had not felt before. Something that you believed only existed in romance novels and fairy tales. You blamed it on the amount of physical validation you were receiving practically every hour on the hour.

That was how the first few days of your vacation went: fucking, talking, falling.

But there was one thing that didn't seem right.

Loki wasn't acting like he normally did. He was still suave, charming, and attentive. He still centered in on you in bed like you were the only person who existed. But there were times where it seemed like his mind was elsewhere. It was in the quiet moments where you two would be reading books while lounging across from each other on the couch or you were petting Cooper while sitting between Loki's legs. It was relaxing, and you could tell he was pleased, but there was something that was distracting him.

It terrified you.

In those quieter moments, his eyes would be glazed and narrowed. You could tell he was focusing on something. Often times, you'd let him sit there and mull through whatever was going on in his head. Other times, you would cup his cheek and turn his head towards you. The moment his eyes met yours, he'd soften and relax into your touch, those odd looks disappearing for the next few hours.

But they returned. They always returned.

You would see that haunted look right before you fell asleep. Loki would always lean over you and stroke your hair, your cheek, your arm. You had begged him to stay with you, and every time you did, he would turn away from you.

"I cannot," he would whisper. "I must answer prayers."

You assumed that the prayers had something to do with the stress in his face. You hated seeing him like this and you wondered if there was anything you could do to make him feel better. But before you could ever ask, he would kiss you and send you off to sleep as he left the room.

Loki would stay out in your living room all night, and when you left your room in the morning, he was already awake. He would lock eyes with you and you would be quickly pinned beneath him, his cock sliding inside of you.

"I missed you," he would grunt in your ear as his cock slammed into it. "It's been such a long night without you."

You gladly accepted the brutal fucking. It helped him relieve the stress that had built up from whatever he was doing. After he came inside of you - which he always did, much to your excitement - you found yourself wishing he would tell you whatever was on his mind. Why had it been such a long night and why was each night so hard for him? But he never talked about it. He never told you what was happening during the evening hours that he spent alone. He only gave you his body.