and on model

in your dreams, sweetheart

Photographer!thor, Model!loki. Kind of the second in my photographer Thor series, the first one being a heart and a pair of boots.

“Why not just go with fishnet?”

Thor looks up. He’s kneeling between Loki’s legs, cutting holes in the white tee Loki is wearing. Thor’s left hand is under the shirt while the right one is working the scissors.

Over Thor’s shoulder there’s the professional camera he’ll be using to take the pics. It’s on the table right next to Thor’s giant to go coffee cup and his car keys.

Thor looks at Loki for a moment and his eyes just devour him. And Loki thinks having someone look at you like that literally gives you the best high ever.

Thor looks down at the thin fabric, shifts his weight in his shoes.

He moves his hand higher under Loki’s shirt, reaching for the collar area. The warmth of his palm and Thor’s forearm pressed right to the center of his chest makes Loki arch his back a little and hug Thor’s ribs with his thighs.

Loki squeezes Thor’s chest between his knees and Thor hums, fiddling with the shirt.

Thor picks a spot close to Loki’s left shoulder, pulls the fabric away from Loki’s skin and cuts a hole there.

The hushed sound of ripping fabric in Loki’s ears and the spicy scent of Thor’s cologne filling his nose, warming the blood in his veins.

“Don’t have any of them fishnet shirts,” he replies.

Loki leans back on his palms, keeping his legs pressed to Thor’s sides.

He flips his hair over his right shoulder, teases, “I don’t believe you.”

Thor smirks, slides the silver blades of the scissors into the slash he’d just made, snips, makes it wider, and hello left clavicle.


They’ve just met in a bar about an hour ago, and now Loki’s sitting on an empty wine box in this guy’s apartment about to pose for some pics and the moon is shining out there and the night is theirs.  

Loki shakes his head slowly, left eyebrow arched, “I think you just wanna touch me.”

Thor moves his giant palm over Loki’s chest, then closes his fingers gently around Loki’s throat, hand still under the collar.

“Yeah?” he smiles up at Loki all crooked, swiping a thumb just under Loki’s jaw, “where’d you get that idea from?”

Loki plays along, “makes you wonder, doesn’t it.”

Thor’s smile grows bigger, “love this mouth of yours.”

“Love your hands,” Loki says.

Definitely not just the hands.

Thor chuckles. He’s full of himself but he’s fucking hot.

He slides his palm back down from the hollow of Loki’s throat to the center of his chest. He cuts another hole there, puts the scissors away.

Loki watches him with parted lips as Thor slides his fingers in, grips the fabric in both fists and tugs hard. The fabric rips so easy, leaving a grinning slash the size of a pocket knife behind.

Loki is impressed and fucking turned on.

He bites his lips and pokes Thor’s side with the heel of his boot.

“Be gentle with me?” he asks all innocent but his eyes betray him.

Thor grins, “in your dreams, sweetheart.”