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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Tell me, tell me, tell me

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your husband doesn't handle change well and falls into old habits.

This is one of my birthday drabbles. Of course, little lies had a lot of votes and has earned it's own little add on. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A birthday drabble for Little Lies

You sit up and smile as the man exits Loki’s office. He looks content but your husband looks less than as he appears in the doorway. He crosses his arms and watches the candidate leave. You’ve gone through this routine at least two dozen times this week.

“How was it?” You ask.

He hums flatly and stares after the man’s departure.

“His resume was great. What’s wrong?”

Loki pouts and looks at you. He stands straight and crosses his arms. “He’s not you.”

“Oh, I know. I’m so talented at keeping your agenda,” you retort dryly. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to hire someone.”

“Don’t you understand?” He strides forward and stops just on the other side of your desk. His hands drop to his hips. “You’re asking me to replace you. That’s impossible.”

“Ha, when did you get so sentimental?” You ignore him for the email on your screen.

“Since the day you broke your leg, actually.”

“Shut up,” you snip without looking up.

“Truly. As worried as I might’ve been, I do miss those crutches. You were... manageable then.”

You shake your head. “Well, you never are, but I’m hoping you can find an assistant that can do a somewhat decent job of it.”

He huffs and slithers around the desk. He sits on the corner, crowding you. “It won’t matter. I’ll be a mess without you, darling.”

“I screened him. What was wrong with Peter?” You challenge, leaning back in your chair to face him.

“Little upstart. I don’t need him flirting with my clients,” he harrumphs.

“As if you don’t.”

“On my honour,” he puts his hand to his chest, “I’ve changed my ways. You know it. I gave my vows.”

“Uh huh.” You tut and check the time. “Well, who else? Jacqueline was good. She has a great CV and she’s very warm and welcoming.”

“But I adore the way you snarl at me. It makes me...” Loki trails off and touches his belt.

“You’re looking for an assistant,” you remind him.

“Yes, but I will be losing my wife.”

“That’s dramatic. It’s not like you can’t come see me. I can come back too between terms.”

“School. You’re leaving me for school,” he mopes and shakes his head.

“I’m trying to better myself, Lo. I don’t want to be your secretary my whole life.”

“Personal Assistant,” he corrects. “Prized Asset.”

“Ugh, you are so--” you put your hand up in exasperation. “This isn’t about the job. You’ll just call the temp agency, huh? So, you don’t have to pay benefits.”

He shrugs guiltily as he examines the wall behind you.

“What is this really about?” You insist.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“I swear, I’ll miss you--”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll miss you too. Blah blah blah,” you flutter your fingers at him and push yourself to your feet. You go to him and he looks at you with those sparkling green eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and he instinctively frames your hips. “What is bothering you so much?”

He stares at you then looks down. His lips thin and he tilts his head one way then the other. His gaze flicks back up to you. A grin creases his face and he laughs, “it’s foolish. Stupid! I shouldn’t worry.”

“Loki,” you warn.

He sighs. He peeks over at the door and his mouth slants. “You’re going to meet a lot of young men. Like that Peter.”

You narrow your eyes and frown. Then you smile and scoff. You grab his chin and make him look at you, “you’re worried I’m going to meet some young gun and ditch my old man?”

“Old? I wouldn’t use that word,” he winces.

“You really think I would run off with some young hunk? With big burly shoulders and a nice chest...” Your let your tone drift into a dreamy drone. “Oh and thick hair and stamina like no one’s business...”

“Hey!” He pokes your side and you cackle.

“Loki, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’ll be far too busy studying and I’m too old for all that. Those twenty-year olds don’t want me. Now, hire a replacement so I can deal with all this nonsense.” You caress his cheek and give a smile.

“You underestimate those twenty-year old cads. I once was one and I would've pounced on you at once.”

“Oh really. Because you’re like forty and took years.”

“Eh, let’s not toss around numbers here.” He sniffs. “I’m just saying that you are a beautiful woman, obviously. I married you. And those young ones, well, they like the allure of an older woman.”

“Alright, alright,” you pat his shoulder. “Let it go.” You exhale and look him in the face. He stares back at you and squeezes your hips. “I’ll miss you.”

His cheeks dust with pink and he smirks, “I'll miss you too, darling.”

“You better.”

His eyes fog and slowly crawl down. You squirm as he stands, crowding you, and his hands grazes along your sides. He walks his fingertips up and down and grips your waist again. He spins you suddenly, pinning you against the desk.

“Let me be your young gun, eh? Show you this old man’s still got it.” He purrs.

“Lo,” you rub his chest.

“I can’t have you running off not thinking of me and how I’d put any of them to shame.” He winks and leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “Mm, Mrs. Laufeyson, is that what you want? A sweet young thing. I’ve not lost my touch, believe me.”

“Lo,” you put your hand over one of his.

“I feel you trembling, darling.”

“Not here,” you tug on his hand.

“Anywhere.” He urges you back until you hit the desk.

He leans in until you’re forced to brace the desk. You strain backward and he reaches around to swipe the desk clear. Your monitor and laptop teeter dangerously near the edge as the rest of your things scatter. You gasp.

“Loki!”

“I’ll buy new ones,�� he lifts you at once and puts you on the desk.

“You can’t--”

“I am.”

He puts his hand under your chin and forces your head up. His thumb rubs along your cheekbones as he marvels down at you. He exhales and tickles your nose with his. You scrunch up your face and he presses a kiss to your lips.

You push against his chest as his tongue glides along your lips. You murmur and try to resist. You never can. His hand brushes up and down your side then hooks up to your neck. He holds your head between his hands as he invades your mouth. He consumes you as he shifts and pushes between your knees.

You clutch his lapel and part from his lips with a gulp. “Loki--”

“Let me remind you who you married, darling. It was no old man,” he yanks his tie free as he clings to the front of your blouse, bunching it as he keeps you snagged. He tosses the silk and draws you back to him.

You giggle, cheeks vibrant with heat, and shake your head. “Oh, I know who I married.”

“And you will keep it in mind with those young lads.”

He pinches a button, tediously undoing it with a single hand. He snarls and withdraws briefly to tear open his shirts. Buttons scatter as he snarls and steps up once more. He cradles your head in his hands and enshrines you in another fervent kiss, this one has you breathless.

You put your hands on your chest, feeling the way his muscle tenses with need. He shudders as you drag your touch down to his stomach and the firm muscle clenches. He growls into you and bends you until your back is against the desk. He pins you there as he runs his hand down the length of your figure.

He hooks his thumb beneath the hem of your dress and pushes the skirt up. You wriggle and feel blindly along his belt. He twitches as you latch onto his buckle. He hums and parts from your mouth, gasping against your cheek.

His belt clinks open at your blind tugging and you pick open his fly. He growls and nips your ear lobe, laying a trail of kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He pants slacken and you push them down with his briefs. He springs free and wiggles his hips so his belt slides lower.

He pulls your rear over the edge and flutters his fingers along your thigh. You curl your other leg around him as he tickles the front of your panties. He presses your clit through the thin fabric. You draw his mouth back to yours hungrily.

Your tongues meet in a flurry of need and dread. You need each other right then and dread the separation to come. You’ve been outrunning that fact. That distance will not be easy, even so much as you’ve longed for it.

He rubs you through your panties until he can feel you seeping through. He traces the trim of the lingerie and peels them away from your cunt. The satin bunches against your thigh as he flips your skirt up and moves closer.

You know each other by touch. He finds you without hesitation. He slides into you in a single lunge and you drone in delight. Your turn your head as his wet lips smear over your cheek. He groans as your walls squeeze him.

“Darling,” he drawls.

You puff and arch your back, hooking your legs so that your heels press into the back of his thighs. You tilt your hips, goading him on as he takes his long, patient strokes. That pace he keeps when he means to torture.

You snarl and grab his chin. You force his head up, “I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me like an old man.”

His eyes flicker and his lips curve into a devious smirk. He slams his hips against you and you cry out. Your nails dig into his jaw and you laugh through your teeth. He does it again, jolting the desk with you, and you quiver around him.

“Oh, yes,” you grit. “You can do it, old man.”

“Old. Man.” He chuffs out and rams into your again.

You chuckle only to be met with another blunt rut. Your voice fizzles to a squeal.

He traces along the top of your dress and drags the sleeve down your shoulder. He follows the cut of the bodice and uncovers your bra beneath. He quickly pulls the strap down and flips the cup inside out. He fondles you at once.

His hips pump into you, harder and harder. His thumb flicks over your nipple, swirling around to tease. He hunches and dips down to take the bud between his teeth. He snarls and bucks faster. You hug him between your thighs and wrap an around his head.

His other hand snakes down between your bodies. He pushes against your clit, the motion of his pelvis moving his fingers against you. The friction melds into the pressure inside. Your eyes roll back as you cling to his shoulder, your other hand on his lower back, beckoning him deeper.

His harried grunts punctuate your soft moans, the slap of flesh and constant clink of his buckle adding to the twisted melody of your fucking. You roll your hips up into his. Just a little more.

Your thighs shake and the swell in your core threatens to boil over. Your voice begins to crest and suddenly, he stops. You groan and clamp onto his side. You try to pull him down as he lifts himself. He keeps only his tip inside of you.

Your eyes snap open as he flings his tussled hair back and looks you in the face. Your brows furrow.

“Old man?” He challenges.

“Lo...” you breathe, “please.”

“No, no, that is what you said. So, allow me to prove you wrong.” He snickers and nips at your lower lip. “I can keep up, can you?”

He dips into you slowly and you whine. Your head lolls and your lashes flutter. You bare your teeth at him and hiss. “I hate you.”

“How can you hate this, darling?” He rears back and thrusts again. “Mm, I feel the way you’re clinging to me.”

“Just--” You flare your nose and turn your head straight. “Do it. Old man.”

His irises spark and he snaps his hips. You yipe and he twirls his fingertips against your clit. You shudder at the sensation.

“Oh ho, darling, do you want to cum?”

“Loki--”

“Tell me you want to cum.”

“Lo--”

“Beg me.” He commands and pulls his fingers away. The coolness left in the shadow of his touch makes you squirm. “I did vow to serve you, darling, but I cannot if you do not say what you want.”

Frustration, desperation, call it what you will. You whimper and reach for his hand. You guide it back to your clit and growl, “make me cum.”

It’s his turn to shiver. He twists his hand away from yours to grab your fingers and pushes them to your bud. You gasp as he uses them to rub you instead. As he does, his hips fall into tempo.

He fucks you so the desk scrapes the floor and his thighs hits the sharp edge. He raises himself as he spreads a hand across your stomach and watches himself delves into you, over and over. He guides your fingers in a frantic rhythm and the tension clusters beneath your own touch.

You spasm and cry out, legs locked around his as you trap him inside you.

“Oh, yes, make me cum, Loki, make me--” you descend into a stream of gibberish as you contort on the desk. You bite your knuckles to silence yourself, heaving wildly as your lungs burn and your skin tingles.

“Um...” a knock sounds at the door and Loki halts mid-thrust. You share a startled look then slowly glance over at the open door. Shit. The last interviewee, Peter, stands dumbfounded as he peers in from the hall. “I, uh, forgot my phone in your office.”

“Well,” Loki clears his throat and looks down at you with a sinister gleam. “Go and get it. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #little lies #drabble #sequel #roo's 32nd #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers #au #boss au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

Be With You Everywhere

A short drabble for Little Lies (and a set up for Thor's spin off)

You check your phone for the nth time. You're getting tired of waiting. In fact, you're ready to leave.

You feel like a sore thumb sticking out. Sat on the high stool with your empty martini glass, a satin top and the tight pencil skirt making you chafe for a pair of leggings and loose tee. The gin would go better with some Netflix and pillows.

You sigh and rub your cheek. You're used to the inconvenience of knowing Loki but it doesn't mean you enjoy it. You hook your heel on the crossbar and rest your chin in your hand. Another martini would ease your impatience.

You signal to the bartender, all the way at the other end. You lean forward impatiently, running your fingers up the stem of your glass.

"Martini?" A man drawls from beside you, "sounds good."

Before you can react, the man claims the stool next to you. As the bartender finally heads down in your direction, the stranger raises two fingers, "dos for us, sir."

The bartender takes away your empty glass as you thumb the ring on your finger, making a show of the gesture, "I'm waiting for someone."

"No need, he's late," he insists, "and what kind of bozo would leave a woman like you waiting?"

"My husband," you retort, "I appreciate the attention but I'm flattered. And married."

"Happily?" He muses, "I've watched you half the night, staring at your phone and scowling. A man worthy of you wouldn't leave you all alone for so long."

"Does that line usually work?"

"I to be fair, I don't usually approach married women," he smiles at the bartender as he brings your drinks. He asks him to put the order on his tab, "they usually approach me."

"Sure," you scoff and stir the toothpick in the gin, "thank you for the drink but divorces are costly."

"I can put that on my tab as well," he leans an arm on the leather trim of the bar as he angles to face you, "James. Conrad."

You shake your head and smile. You give your name and slide the olives off the toothpick into the gin, "my husband is known to get jealous. And slightly violent."

"Sounds kinky," he intones, "I've been known for a similar habit, I confess."

You look at him. He has brilliant blue eyes and a charming crooked smile. He almost reminds you of Loki, but not so uptight. A tee shirt under his slim blazer, and a pair of dark jeans. His posture suggests military, likely ex.

"It's his least endearing quality," you rebuff, "I'm not much for angry men and their egos."

"Angry? I find it fun," he raises his glass and sips.

The tap of soles crosses the floor and you turn in time to greet Loki as he strides up, phone in hand as he fixes his tie, "darling, sorry I'm... late. Pardon, I was unaware we were having company. A friend?"

"Not your friend," James chortles, "but I admit, the lady is rather friendly."

"The lady. My wife," Loki snarls as he tweaks a brow, "darling, is this man bothering you?"

"I'm keeping her company as her husband remains errant. How sad," James takes a healthy gulp of gin, "now, we've just got our drinks and I never leave one unfinished--"

"Would the both of you let me get a word in?" You sneer, "I was just informing this kind stranger that I am indeed married."

"Yes, very married," Loki intones.

"Ahem," you give him a pointed look, "and he was kind enough to congratulate me on our recent nuptials with a martini."

"Perhaps if you'd been on time, I'd have got a full round," James smirks, "I do wonder how long a marriage can last with such discord."

"Eh," Loki narrows his eyes as he steps closer, hooking his arm around you, "I have a word of advice, yes? There are plenty of single women to be found in this sort of place, not hard to spot. I can point you towards a few."

"None half so gorgeous," James winks at you, "but glad to know you've such a keen eye. Always on the lookout, yes?"

"Please," you roll your eyes, "James," you stand and take your martini, "thank you for the drink but I am much too tired to argue all night. You have a lovely evening," you grab your purse and hit Loki's stomach with it, "let's find a table, Lo."

You strut past him. He doesn't budge at first but before you can turn to chide him, he relents. You choose the table against the wall and sit, placing your purse at the side as you nurse your drink. He sighs as he lowers himself across from you, his eyes still on the bar.

"I rush across the city and find you flirting with other men," he scoffs.

"Lo, you kept me waiting nearly an hour and are whining like a baby," you reproach, "for the time being, I'm going home with my husband. Don't make me change my mind."

You peek over at James and raise your glass in a toast as you grin. Loki snarls and leans over the table, "don't, darling. Traffic was horrible, I swear--" He hisses and sits back, smoothing his shirt, "besides I didn't even get to break the good news."

"Oh, amazing news, I'm sure," you sling one legs over the other, playing deliberately with the lacy hem of your shirt. He's distracted for a moment before he can't right himself.

"It is," he chimes, his tone striking you as unusually chipper, "my brother is to be married."

You nearly choke and put down your glass heavily, "Thor? Really? Your mother must be thrilled."

"Mmm," he leans back as he considers you. The toe of his leather shoe meets your calf and runs up as he pokes out the tip of his tongue, "and you. You must be elated to accompany me back to Asgard once more. Countess."

"Ugh, don't call me that," you grimace, "yes, lovely memories call us back, do they?"

"Darling," he purrs as he drags his hand down his lapel, "you've never seen Asgard in the spring..."

"I've never wanted to."

"Well, you're mine now, you have to," he says and aims a look toward James. You don't bother glancing over, you know he's still there.

"I am, so quit being such a child," you warn as you finish your martini, "I could use another drink."

He grins and his eyes wander down to your empty glass, "you could," he hums lowly.

"Mmm," you nod and brush his ankle with your toes, "you know you're a lot easier to bear with some alcohol around."

"Yes, dear," he plucks up your glass, "but you know, so are you."

#dark loki #loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #little lies #drabble #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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