#dark loki

[littledark11]

Loki's point of view is kind of depressing knowing that he's always second best to thor but as a good brother Thor is, and not only did he invite sweetness to be best friends with Queenie but also Loki's new plaything.

Jada is apologizing??,Jesus I want to know what Loki did, if her hair was messy and she was crying, he probably scared her or threaten her.

A Touch of Sweetness 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, 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: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

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 ❤️

You lean forward to keep an eye on the moon. It glows brighter as the sky deepens around it. You always liked watching the sky. Your favourite mornings are when the full moon appears against that baby blue canvas. 

You sit back, keeping the container of tarts steady on your lap, and instead focus on the streets. You don’t often go through these neighbourhoods. Truly, there isn’t much you do on your own. You were only ever your sister’s tag-along. 

“You know, it isn’t often I drive anyone to my brother’s estate and see them leave so pleased,” Loki muses. 

You glance at him, untangling his words. “Oh? But it’s a very nice house.” 

“The house is pleasant, but not all within can be,” he replies. As always, his words are aligned to mystify you. 

“I don’t think you’re unpleasant,” you argue. 

“I didn’t mean...” he begins then shrugs. “Hm, I suppose that is a compliment.” 

“Sorry, I guess I misunderstood,” you say. 

“Suppose you did,” he agrees. 

“Thor must be a good brother. He seems so happy. And you two get along.” 

“Do we?” He wonders. 

“Uh, oh,” you chew your lip. “Or I wouldn’t know. We only just met. It’s only that he brought you to the berry farm and--” 

“And he sends me to drive around his plaything’s plaything,” he scoffs. “Yes, I am a useful asset, as everyone else in my brother’s wife. A word of advice, if you might hear it; when you assume the best in people, you set yourself up for the worst.” 

You bat your lashes in his direction and frown. His profile is naturally pensive; his nose elegant and his cheekbones sharp. You shift uncomfortably. 

“That’s a sad way to look at the world,” you comment. 

“It is pragmatic,” he insists as he curls his thumb under the wheel to turn on your street. “If you can apply a bit of that, your idealism might have some value.” 

You put your chin down. It’s not really an insult but it feels like one. And it isn’t something you haven’t heard before. Jada always says you have stupid ideas. 

You’re quiet as he draws up in front of your house. You undo the seat belt as you balance the container and you grab your bag from between your feet. As you open the door, he clears his throat. 

“I do not think you are unpleasant either,” he sniffs.  

“What?” You pause and look back at him as you’re half-turned out of the car. 

He sighs, “here, you are going to drop something.” 

He gets out and struts around the car. He comes around your side and takes the container from your hands. He stands back with his hand on the door. 

“Thanks,” you stand and step out of the way. He closes the door and you reach for the tarts. 

“I shall walk you to the door. To prevent any mishap,” he says. 

“Okay,” you agree. 

You walk together to the porch and he lets you lead him up. You stop at the door and search in your bag for your keys. It’s a lofty mission as everything is just tossed in together. 

“Before, you said I wasn’t unpleasant and I only wanted to know that I would say the same of you, that is all,” he explains as your keys jingle over the top of your bag. 

“Oh, yeah, thank you,” you beam up at him. “See, I was right.” 

His eyes dart away and he turns his head to the street. You unlock the door and hook your bag on your shoulder. You put your hands out and he gives you the container. You hug it and pop the lid off. 

“Try one,” you insist. 

“I said I would later,” he slithers. 

“Please? The good part about baking is getting to share,” you say. 

He exhales and looks at you. He reaches to pluck a tart out. He examines it and takes a small, tidy bite. He chews and swallows, his cheeks pinching. He’s silent and you’re nervous. 

“Delicious,” he allows and lowers his hand, “I will finish it in the car. I’d be out of your way sooner than later. Have a good night.” 

You smile. It’s a small victory. “You too, Loki.” 

He hesitates then turns away. You watch him go and he brings his hand up to take another bite as you stare at his back. You spin and push through the door. You set down the container and take your shoes off. 

Jada appears at the end of the hall as she emerges from the basement. You grab the tarts, ready to retreat to your room. She calls your name. You ignore her but she follows, grunting and out of breath. 

“Wait, I have your clothes,” she says. 

You stop and face her. “My... clothes?” 

You look at the basket in her hands then at her. Her eyes are swollen from crying and her hair is a mess. You gasp. 

“Jada? Are you okay?” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I'm about what I did.” She blusters out. 

“Oh...” 

“And I cleaned out your dresser and I did my best to get the stains out,” she babbles out. 

“What-- why?” You grimace. 

“Because it was wrong. It was mean,” she sniffles and her eyes flit around. 

“Oh?” 

“And I bought you some new berries,” her voice is wispy and nervous. “So, we’re even and you’re not mad at me anymore, right?” 

You shrug, “I guess so.”  

You open your bedroom door and let her in. Your dresser is as clean as promised, you even think she vacuumed. She puts your clothes on your bed and hurries back. 

“Oh, did you want me to put them away?” She asks. 

“Er, that’s fine,” her behaviour is making you nervous. You remember what Loki said in the car about assuming things and you know your sister; she isn’t nice without reason. “What do you want?” 

“Huh? Nothing,” she stands by the door, shifting her weight as she hugs herself. “I just... felt bad.” 

You doubt that. Even you have enough cynicism for that. You know she won’t tell the truth though. She never does. 

“Well, if you want a berry tart,” you gesture to the container. “They’re pretty good.” 

She brings her hand to her throat and shakes her head. “No thanks,” she backs out, her voice scraping hoarsely. “Um, good night.” 

She turns and pulls the door shut as she leaves. You sit on the bed and wiggle your feet. There’s something strange going on. You better take Loki’s advice and stay alert. She’s up to something. 

[ellamuffin97]

💚Unfettered 💚

Pairing: Lokixfem!reader

Rating: E, 18+

Wordcount: ~8K

Warnings: sex pollen,use of restains ,Loki gets SCARY , lots of dirty talk,sedation, injection,reference to violence ,oral receive (m) while Loki is chained up but not drugged anymore

Summary: when Loki is drugged on a mission he asks you to restrain him because he knows damn well that he is not going to be able to keep his hand off you .

You were sitting on a chair in Banners lab tagging all the jars he asked you to , when the door opened suddenly . You knew it was Loki returning from his mission . He doesn’t said a word , so you didn’t bother looking up from your task when he strode into the lab .

He slapped the control on the wall and kept his hand pressed firmly to the panel, frozen in place, as the door closed slowly. You caught the limited movement in your periphery while you worked, thinking vaguely that he must be exhausted.

“How’d it go?” you asked, rubbing the dirty jar you was holding before putting the tag on it .

Loki didn’t respond. No sigh, no grunt. Nothing.

That grabbed your attention. Loki was never talkative, often relying on one-word rejoinders, but he always answered direct questions, especially from you. Lately, he was even initiating conversations during the times he met you around the tower .

You looked up and were surprised to see that there was none of the other Avengers in sight—it was just Loki standing by the door , his hand still pressed to the control panel like he couldn’t bring himself to move. He looked… agitated. You could read the tension in his body; the fist hanging by his side was clenched and his shoulders were drawn up.

“Loki ?” you asked, the confusion apparent in your voice, as you set the jar down and got to your feet.

“No.” Without moving from his position, he whipped his head around and held up a palm to halt your advance. “Don’t… Don’t come any closer.”

“What—?”

He pointed a threatening finger at your chest. “Stay. There.”

You were so shocked by his unexpected command that you obeyed, staying rooted to the spot.

That’s when you really took in his appearance: he was shaking, the hand pointed at your chest trembling slightly. His armor was dirty—smeared with what was unmistakably blood. His chest was heaving as if breathing alone was a herculean effort.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he nodded stiffly and wrenched his hand away from the wall. With leaden steps, he walked over to the storage crate and dragged it into the middle of the floor. Each of his mechanical movements looked like it required every ounce of his control to execute.

“Why—?”

He grunted, ignoring your question again. You watched in stunned silence as he stripped off all of his daggers, even his cape and spare ammo, with stunted, jerky motions and dropped them on the floor .

He took 4 thick heavy chains and the collar that Tony created to prevent him from using his powers and without a word he got out the lab and went straight to the secure tower , where he’ve been hold when he first came in the tower .

He put the collar around his neck , then started to chain his own ankles , one by one .

You followed him , watching him in complete shock.

“Loki , what the fuck are you doing?”

He whipped his head up to look at you and commanded: “Help me with this.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together: “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I’m not going to chain—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, he snarled: “Just shut up and fucking help me.”

You stood there, dumbstruck, and cycled through several emotions in rapid succession. Your initial shock was immediately replaced by irritation as you registered his rude words. Anger flickered brightly across your consciousness, but it was quickly supplanted by confusion: he had never spoken to you in that tone of voice, let alone told you to shut up. Finally, fear settled in, thick and weighty, like a fog threatening to choke you.

You approached him slowly, kneeling on the other side of the tangle of chains.

“What happened to you?” you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.

He jerked away immediately, so quickly that he almost lost his balance. He thrust out an arm to steady himself on the wall behind him.

“Don’t—don’t touch me. Please.” His voice was suddenly small, almost quavering.

Your heart rate kicked up again.

“Lo, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on.”

He looked up at you, voice slightly softer but still firm and urgent. “Help me with this, then I’ll explain.”

You stared at him.

“Please,” he repeated.

He was begging you. That was when the real fear sank in.

Without another word, you helped him get the wrist cuffs in place. Then, standing beside him, you followed his directions as he instructed you to secure the ends of the four chains: two to bolts on the wall, and two to bolts on the floor. The two on the wall were affixed to his arm restraints, the two on the floor to his ankles. Initially, you left slack in the chains, plenty of room for him to move, but he insisted that you tighten them enough so that his back was almost flush to the wall and he couldn’t extend his hands out any further than the natural reach of his long arms.

He sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, when you clicked the last restraint in place.

You looked up at him. Loki was strung up against the wall , arms hanging by his sides, suspended about a foot away from his body, and his legs were splayed slightly in a wide stance, boots a couple feet apart.

It was quite a sight.

If you weren’t so worried about what was happening, you’d definitely be having some… ideas. They were completely inappropriate ideas, especially considering the stark reality that the two of you were nothing more than colleagues .

“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “Now, p-please, step away from me.”

You reluctantly complied, taking several careful steps backward, keeping your gaze trained on his eyes .

“Okay, I did what you asked. Now tell me what happened.”

His breathing was still labored. “H-hit with a bio-dart, aphrodisiac drug. Strong… Heard of them before, but never encountered one until now.”

You gave him a skeptical look, raising one eyebrow, “…An aphrodisiac drug as a weapon? I thought that was a myth.”

“Apparently not.”

You surveyed him again as the reality of the situation washed over you.

He continued, words spilling out of his mouth in a rush like he was running out of time to explain : “H-had to get back to the tower . Didn’t trust myself. Left everybody there. I’ll go back later if they’ll still need me . No-no time to... I had-had to—before I—”

His whole body tensed suddenly, cutting off his own sentence, and he threw his head back as an ugly, feral sound tore from his chest.

You stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You panicked, desperately trying to think of some way to help him as he flailed.

He writhed for another moment then thankfully stilled, slowly raising his head to look at you again. He sounded wrecked when he spoke again: “No, no. It doesn’t hurt, not exactly. Not yet at least. It’s—it feels like…” He trailed off, glancing toward the floor.

You prompted him: “Like what?”

Before he could answer you, another wave wracked through him, and he thrashed against the restraints. You fought the urge to cross the space and soothe him. Even in the most stressful, life-threatening situations, Loki was always the picture of composure: calm, collected, calculating. So, it was unnerving to see him like this—overcome and out of control. You were itching to touch him, to ease his discomfort somehow. After another moment, he recovered.

When his eyes found your face again, he rasped: “It feels like if I don’t fuck you right now, I’m going to die.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face. You swallowed hard, staring at him… all thoughts suddenly gone, mind completely blank.

He filled the fraught silence, straining forward slightly, his voice dipping an octave: “I want to fuck you so badly, baby.”

Your heart dropped at the unexpected pet name, a wave of wetness unapologetically gathering between your thighs.

Fuck. This was not at all the situation you had imagined—Loki drugged and chained up—but you had definitely dreamt of him saying some version of those words to you… on a regular basis, like maybe every night you ever spent in the tower since the day you met him .

He spoke again, trembling as he said: “This is fucking torture, you standing there, looking like that. And I can’t even fucking touch you. Shit. Shit. Shit. I want to—I want to touch you.”

Without your explicit permission, your feet moved you one step forward.

Loki shook his head back and forth violently, head jerking like he was trying to clear unwelcome thoughts by sheer force. “Odin’s beard , this is really fucking with my head. I’m-I’m sorry—I’m not myself.”

Only one question came to mind, one thing you were desperate to know.

“So…it’s just the drug?”

You waited, holding your breath, hoping he knew exactly what you were asking him.

He snapped his head up, meeting your gaze. He sounded surprisingly sober for a moment. “No. It’s not,” he stated bluntly. “I always want to fuck you. It’s just now I… I can’t control that urge.”

Suddenly, the room felt hot, suffocatingly so. You inched forward again.

His confession flooded you with courage. “What if… what if I want you to fuck me?”

Loki whined, body convulsing, shoulders collapsing forward as far as they could against his arm restraints. You were so shocked by the foreign sound that you actually took a step back—you’d never, ever heard him make a noise remotely close to that. You’d cauterized gaping wounds for him, removed a jagged blade from deep in his thigh, witnessed him take a sword the side, sutured countless lacerations with no local anesthetic… but you’d never heard him whine. It was high and needy, desperate and pathetic .

“Don’t-don’t say that, please don’t fucking say that to me right now… please… I c-can’t handle it.”

The chains creaked ominously, the links clanking together as he shifted against them.

“But, I mean it. I always want you to fuck me too,” you continued, ignoring Loki’s feeble requests.

You squeaked and flinched back again when he suddenly lunged forward, hands gripping the chains and pulling hard. His arms and legs were immediately wrenched back, his torso straining toward you. He panted: “Gods, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of you saying-saying that to me, kærasta.”

Even through his situation , his stare was scalding, his gaze scorching your skin as he surveyed you, his eyes trailing all the way down and back up your body.

You stepped toward him.

He jerked his head to the side suddenly, tearing his gaze away, and whined again—more quietly this time, more resigned. When he said the next words, you could hear how tightly his jaw was set: “Not like this. I-I won’t fuck you for the first time like this. I-I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you.”

You took another, much larger step forward.

“You won’t hurt me.”

He whipped his face up to watch you again. His voice was dangerous now, menacing, as he growled: “Yes, yes—I will. You don’t understand what this feels like. I can’t control myself—it’s a fucking miracle I didn’t take you the moment I walked back onto the lab and saw you sitting there—so fucking gorgeous—and it’s only gotten worse.” He let out another frustrated growl, then continued: “I don’t just want to fuck you, I want to wreck you, I want-want to wreck you until you can’t walk and then fuck you again. I want to tear you apart. Ruin you with my cock.”

He said those words like a threat, but you couldn’t help the way they sent heat coursing through your veins, a shiver down your spine. You stepped toward him one more time. You were almost within his reach.

“DON’T,” he ordered, voice deadly serious. “Really, I can’t control myself. S-stay back.”

Even as he told you to stay away, though, he reached a hand out for you, legs and arms straining forward, trying to get closer to you. His mouth was saying one thing, his body begging for another.

You stayed where you were, just out of his reach, and asked: “How long will this last?”

“I don’t know… I hope no longer than a few hours. It’s already been at least an hour since I got hit. But it’s-it’s gotten worse.”

You could hear the exhaustion and exertion in his voice. He was barely holding it together, and you knew you needed to do whatever you could to make this easier on him, not harder. So, you shoved down your own selfish desire and with great reluctance, stepped away from him. You sat down on the floor across from him and said, “Then, I guess… we’ll wait it out.”

He nodded vaguely, leaning against the wall behind him with a loud sigh.

You sat in uncomfortable silence for several long minutes. You busied yourself by playing on your phone . Every so often, the restraints jangled loudly when Loki was wracked by a brutal surge of need and struggled violently. You tried your best not to flinch every time it happened.

Eventually, he disrupted the silence by saying your name.

Before you even looked up at him, though, you knew—you knew that the Loki you’ve known was gone.

His voice had dropped several octaves, and it sounded different… honeyed, charming, drawling, depraved. It was fucking sultry. When you looked up at him, you immediately noticed his body language. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what exactly had changed, but something about him was off.

All you knew was that, suddenly, a dangerous stranger was standing across the room from you. For the first time, you were truly grateful for those thick fucking chains.

His voice was smooth and calm when he said: “I need your help, sweetheart.”

You looked away from him, playing back on your phone instead. The way he rasped the word sweetheart would be burned into your brain for the rest of your life. It made your whole body feel hot.

“Come over here, beautiful,” he coaxed. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I know you want me too—you can’t hide from me anymore, princess.”

Princess. You didn’t answer. You just sat in silence and shrieked internally.

He said your name again—this time more urgently—then abruptly changed his tack : “Gods, this hurts so much now, it burns—I need you to make it stop hurting. Be a good girl and help me.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek.

When you didn’t respond, he tested a third approach, his voice pitching low and sensual : “Please, darling , don’t you want me? I’m so fucking hard for you right now. I’ll make you feel so, so good, make you cum again and again. Just-just let me touch you. Let me show you.”

You stayed quiet, trying to remember how to breathe. He was playing all the angles—appealing to your conscience and your libido. The second strategy was harder to ignore.

“Come here and feel how hard I am for you.”

Fuck.

His voice was pure sin, purring and growling for you. He was fucking luring you in with it. He said your name one more time, and your resolve cracked a little.

You looked up at him, setting your phone down beside you.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Come over here.”

Against all odds, you stayed seated.

“Come make me feel good, and I’ll make you feel good.”

There was no way you could just sit and listen to this forever, so you made a decision. You shot to your feet.

“Yes, sweet girl, that’s right. I knew you’d do the right thing—always so good to me. Let me down from here, and I’ll take my time with you, show you all the things I’ve imagined doing to your body.”

Sweet fucking hell.

“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue so hard it hurts, and then I’m going to kiss it better.”

He was going to kill you.

You turned abruptly and walked to the door, placing your hand on the security panel .

“NO! Fuck—don’t do this,” he raged behind you. You could hear the squeak of the links shifting against each other as he heaved himself forward.

Steeling yourself, you tipe the code to unlock the door . The only way for you to survive this was to lock yourself in your room , far away from the temptation of his damn voice.

Loki roared and thrashed behind you.

You were halfway out when you heard it—an angry metallic whine and the pattering of several small objects hitting the floor. You whipped your head around and watched as the durasteel panel that his right wrist restraint was fastened to began to peel away from the framework, several of the bolts already missing.

The piercing sound seemed to jolt Loki out of his drugged haze. When you turn back in and faced him, you could tell that he was himself again. He stepped back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you.

When he spoke, his voice had returned to its normal register and cadence, all business. “Fuck—fuck, you have to drug me. You have to.”

Your jaw dropped: “Drug you?? More?”

Words poured out of his mouth, desperate and rushed: “In the med kit,” he pointed, “there’s a shot—PLEASE, sedate me now. It’ll knock me out for a couple hours while the worst of this works through my system. Otherwise, these chains won’t hold. Please, just fucking do it—there’s nowhere that you can hide from me if I get out of these.”

When you didn’t move right away, he bellowed: “DO IT NOW.”

You scrambled over to the medkit, whipping it open and digging around.

“PROMISE ME—promise me you’ll do it, no matter what I say to you. Promise me right now that you’ll do it! Please.”

You looked up at him, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “I will, I promise, Lo.”

His shoulders slumped in relief.

You rooted around, moving past several other items—you took note of an intravenous hydration pouch and filed that information away for later—until you located the appropriate syringe of sedative.

As soon as you turned and approached Loki, you could tell he was lost again. He flipped so fast that if you’d blinked, you might have missed the subtle shift in his body language.

When you were just a few feet away from him, he threw out a palm—this time, not to reach for you, but to halt your advance.

First, he tried appealing to your reason.

“No, no, darling, don’t. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. What if there’s an interaction between the drugs? Could be dangerous. There’s no way to know.”

It almost worked for a second.

You took another step toward him.

Next, he tried bargaining.

“How can I hurt you when I’m chained up like this? The rest of these will hold, I know they will. And it won’t matter anyways; I won’t need the restraints at all if you just help me—if-if you give me what I need.”

You looked away from him, training your gaze on the floor again. “You know that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I was wrong before; it’s-it’s getting better. I can control myself now. I just need you, and everything will be okay. I’ll be—I’ll be gentle with you, so gentle, I promise.”

You forced out one word: “No.”

He didn’t say anything for a long, drawn-out moment. The tension was so thick that against your better judgment, you looked up again. He looked so anguished, so distressed… shoulders tense and fists clenched. You felt bad for him.

Finally, he tried straight-up seduction.

“Please—just, fuck—I need to fuck you. Your cunt, your mouth, let me fuck you. You can have me however you want me, love.”

All of a sudden, your thoughts were hazy, slow like molasses. You were stuck on the fact that he’d called you love.

“I think about fucking you right here on the floor, bending you over and lick your perfect pussy until you cry for me. I always wonder what you’ll sound like when you’re taking my cock.”

You were trying to block out his words, to ignore the honey dripping from his lips. You just—you just wanted a taste.

“I have to know how you taste.”

So did he, apparently. You clenched your thighs. Fuck, you just wanted him to keep talking.

“I think you’ll make the sweetest fucking sounds when I make you cum—I’ve imagined it. I think you’ll whine for me—but I bet I can make you scream too.”

He’d wanted you, too—all this time.

All this time, you’d both been lusting after each other, separated by nothing more than the wall that stands between your rooms and a healthy dose of doubt.

“I just need to cum, and then this will all be better. I know it. The drug will leave my system. Don’t you want to help me?”

You did want to help him.

Your eyes wandered down his body, and your brain short-circuited when you saw the outline of his aching cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers . It made your mouth water.

You wanted him. He wanted you. Why overthink it?

He could tell that it was working, that you were considering his words, so he continued cautiously, bargaining with you: “You don’t even have to unchain me. Just get down on your knees for me, like a good girl.”

Now THAT made you hesitate, made you stop in your metaphorical and physical tracks—but only because it sent a jolt of pure arousal down your spine, electricity igniting every goddamn nerve in your body so fast and intense it almost hurt.

“Don’t you want to open that mouth for me and suck my cock, pretty baby?”

As if on command, your jaw fell open, tongue darting out to lick your parted lips, and you took another step forward.

Oh, shit.

You did want to. You really fucking did. You wanted to get on your knees for him. You wanted to suck his cock and have him tell you how good you looked doing it. You were aching to hear his praise, to taste him, to make him feel good. He deserved relief.

And so did you.

You wouldn’t even have to unchain him. It would be fine. You’d be safe, and he would feel better.

You took another step.

You were close to him now—you didn’t realize you’d crept this close—almost within his reach.

Loki started talking again, capitalizing on this progress: “Gods, I’ve thought about your sweet mouth, those soft lips, wrapped around my cock, taking me down your throat so well. I think about it every fucking night when I fuck my fist. You’d look so good down on your knees for me,kærasta.”

You watched as he got caught up in his own fantasy, mumbling on and on about every sinful thought he’d ever had about your mouth. You could tell his eyes were closed , his head tipped back in bliss. Gradually, he started bucking his hips forward, like he could actually feel your lips around him, like he was chasing a phantom sensation. He was so completely absorbed in the picture he was painting, so drunk on the potential that for a second, he’d forgotten the literal hell he was currently in.

“Sometimes I can’t even focus when you talk to me because I’m just thinking about how your tongue would feel on the tip of my cock, licking me, sucking… so wet and warm, taking me deep like the good fucking girl you are, letting me fuck your mouth, until I’m cumming down your throat and you’re swallowing for me—swallowing everything I have to give you.”

Fuck, the picture he was painting was enticing you just as much as it was enticing him. It was a picture you’d had in your own head for months, one that you’d made yourself cum to so many times you’d lost count.

Before you could stop yourself, you took that final step toward him and extended your hand. You grazed your fingers over the bulge in his pants, and he was jolted out of his waking dream by your unexpected touch, snapping his head down to watch your fingers stroke him.

He choked on nothing. “Please, baby, please.” He was begging now, but his voice wasn’t soft or pleading like it had been when he was asking you to chain him up. Now, it was furious, demanding, and desperate.

He needed this.

Fuck, who were you kidding? You needed this.

You cupped him, pressing against his erection more firmly, and his hips pressed back, chasing that delicious friction. Your aching cunt clenched around nothing when you registered just how big his cock was under your hand.

You were so close to unbuckling his belt, to unzipping his pants. So fucking close. But a whisper of guilt in the back of your mind made you hesitate. The weight of the syringe in your left fist was an insistent reminder : you’d promised him—sane, right-in-his-mind Loki. You’d promised that Loki that you wouldn’t give in.

Fuck.

You stilled your hand.

Loki’s eyes snapped up, meeting your eyes, and tension pulled taut between you. You were both frozen, paralyzed—you by indecision and he by fury.

The seconds stretched on.

He broke first.

He ripped his right arm forward as hard as he possibly could, and with a furious squeal, the metal panel—the loose one you’d completely forgotten about—started to bend away from the wall even more, exposing a complicated mess of wires and pipes underneath. You watched as two more bolts popped out of place and clattered to the floor somewhere behind you. It was almost fully separated from the wall now; three remaining bolts along the bottom edge struggled to keep it in place against Loki’s brutal strength.

The screeching sound shocked you—dragging you forcefully back to reality—and you yanked your hand away from him, but at the same time, Loki’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder. He was finally able to reach you given the newfound slack in his restraint, and his fingers dug into your flesh, wrenching you forward.

He knocked his head against your forehead, holding you there with an iron grip.

Ouch.

You were so close to him that you could hear the words before and after they hit : “I know you want it. Take it. Take what you need, baby. It’s yours.”

Every breath ripping from his lungs was harsh and labored, his chest heaving. You could feel the rage and pure need radiating off of him in waves. His left fist was clenched so tightly around the chain that the skin around creaked.

“I can’t, Lo,” you said, stern but apologetic.

The energy in the room shifted abruptly at your refusal, and you had the good sense to pull away from him just seconds before Loki reared back and launched himself forward, throwing his whole body toward you, only to be yanked back by the restraints. Those three bolts, the last hope of keeping him fully restrained, squeaked ominously as he jerked his limbs as hard as he could, the chains fully extended. He was snatching at the air a few inches from your chest…. reaching, reaching for you

And you were stuck, frozen in place, watching his fingers hovering in front of you.

In a terrifying voice you didn’t even recognize, he roared: “GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES.”

Oh, he was truly lost. He was beyond recognition, beyond bargaining or soothing. He was enraged, throbbing with need. There was only one course of action now.

Another bolt clattered to the floor.

You dropped to your knees, careful to stay close to the ground and out of his reach as you crawled forward. You were trying so, so hard to not be distracted by the obvious strain of his thick cock against his pants, but now it was directly in front of your fucking face.

He pointed an accusing finger down at the syringe clutched in your left hand. “Don’t. Don’t. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.”

You ignored him, the needle poised over the lower part of his thigh. The next few moments played out in slow motion.

Loki bellowed: “NO!”

He ripped his arm forward again, and the metal panel whined, bending forward even more. Another bolt popped off, skittering across the floor and landing by your feet.

One. One single bolt remained in place.

And his right hand was suspended only a few inches above where you were crouched close to the ground.

Lightning fast, you jabbed the needle into his thigh and emptied it in a matter of seconds. He roared in anger, thrashing against the chains, trying to snatch at your hand. When the entirety of the drug had been injected, you ripped it away and scrambled backwards, getting to your feet. Loki struggled and shuddered for a moment, growling all the while, wrenching his arm farther and farther forward—the metal panel screaming as it bent—centimeter by centimeter.

It was too late—you’d waited too long, and he was going to rip it clean off the wall before the drug hit him.

You reached back blindly, relief spreading through you when your hand landed on Loki’s dagger . You took it and kept it in your hand waiting for the worst to come .

Your finger hovered over the edge of the blade , waiting and hoping .

Loki’s movements were suddenly slower, weaker, less coordinated. You placed the dagger in your pocket and let out a breath of relief as the drug finally seemed to take hold. He took a faltering step backward, and his shoulders hit the wall with a hollow clang. He slurred something incoherent at you, and thankfully, finally… finally, he stilled, head sagging forward drunkenly, arms going slack. He slouched against the wall, knees giving out as he slid to the floor, arms extended up and to the sides by the restraints—the right much lower than the left—and his bent knees slightly splayed.

The position couldn’t be comfortable for him, but you were too scared to adjust his restraints—worried that so much movement would likely rouse him.

You waited a good twenty minutes—pacing back and forth as quietly as possible—finalizing the details of an idea in your head. You waited until you were totally sure he was knocked out before you approached him again. First, you opened his collar and placed it in the middle of the floor—out of his reach, but in a position that you’d be able to grab it if needed. Then, you retrieved the hydration bag you’d noted earlier and your sharpest knife. With those supplies in hand, you tiptoed forward. You squatted on Loki’s left side, gripped his bicep lightly… and waited. When he didn’t move, you continued. You held your breath as you carefully, so carefully to avoid nicking his skin, cut a generous hole in his suit at his elbow.

Hopefully he wouldn’t mind that you were sort of butchering his favorite outfit—you’d offer to sew it later.

As hard as you tried not to, the movement jostled the chains, and they clanked and rattled. It was a quiet sound, but it felt so kriffing loud in the oppressive silence. Loki’s breath hitched slightly, disrupting the deep, regular rhythm of his sleep. His fingers twitched. You froze, then slowly set down your blade and started reaching back for his collar.

To your immense relief, before you could wrap your hand around the metal collar, his breathing returned to normal—slow and steady.

You returned to your task, clipping the IV bag to a pipe on the wall above his slumped shoulder and cleaning the skin over the bulging vein visible through the soft flesh of his inner elbow. He didn’t react to the cold alcohol wipe, but he did jerk violently when you pressed the tip of the needle into his skin. You tensed, ready to drop everything and back away if you needed to, but he stilled again, muscles relaxing. You pressed the needle far enough into his vein and taped it in place. You double-checked that the drip was working, then backed away slowly, taking your blade and the phone with you.

You waited like that, leaned against the opposite wall of the room, collar never out of reach. You were unwilling to let him out of your sight, so you remained there, tense and waiting. When the IV bag was empty, you scurried forward and peeled back the tape on his arm—painfully slowly—and eased the needle out before you scrambled back to your spot.

Over two hours after he had passed out, he stirred, head lifting slowly.

“Lo?”

He looked around for a moment, studying his surroundings. He gripped the chains in his fists and attempted to pull himself up, faltering slightly before he eventually succeeded by bracing his back against the wall. He looked slightly unsteady on his feet. His eyes found your face across the hull, and he rasped your name.

“How do you feel?”

His voice was dry and croaky. “Better… I feel better. Normal.”

“Good.”

He stood there, relaxed, getting his bearings. All the rage and tension had left his body. He looked like himself again.

“How long has it been?”

“Since I knocked you out? About two hours.”

He cocked his head. “I thought the drug would have lasted longer.”

“I gave you fluids to flush it out of your system faster,” you explained, tapping the inside of your own elbow to demonstrate.

He looked down at his cut up shirt.

“Good thinking,” he nodded.

“Yeah, and thank fucking God it worked,” you laughed. “You started to get scary there at the end.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head in shame.

“Do you remember anything?”

He looked up at you. “I remember everything.” Then, glancing up at the bent panel above his right shoulder, he continued, “I’m sorry, darling. I would never have forgiven myself if I hurt you.”

You noted the use of a pet name, wondering if this new habit of his would persist. You hoped it would.

You gave him a sympathetic look, shaking your head. “You weren’t yourself. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “Still—I’m sorry. But, you can unchain me. It’s safe now. I promise.”

You stayed where you were.

He seemed normal again, but you’d witnessed just how persuasive drugged Loki could be.

Luckily, he could read your hesitation. “It’s okay,” he reassured you. “I understand. Let’s give it some more time. I want you to feel safe.”

He leaned back against the wall and started sliding down to his seated position.

His sudden patience was all the confirmation you needed.

“I believe you.”

He flicked his head back up to look at you and straightened, watching you as you took a few steps toward him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

He quirked his head at you. “About what?”

You wavered for a second, doubt creeping into your mind. What if it really was the drug talking the whole time? What if he only said all those things because he was out of his mind, desperate to fuck anyone… and you just happened to be in front of him?

You steeled yourself. The only way to know was to ask: “That you want me? That you’ve always wanted me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t just the drug talking?”

He scoffed: “No, it wasn’t.”

A mixture of relief and want settled in your belly. And you could finally have what you wanted.

You approached him slowly. When you were standing directly in front of him, instead of reaching for his restraints, you hooked your fingers in his belt. Loki watched your movements, his arms straining forward slightly.

“What are y—”

He choked on his words when you started to unbuckle his belt. He moaned when you unzipped his trousers and pulled out his aching cock. It was still red and leaking, throbbing with need in your hand. His mind might have been clear, and he might have been in control of himself now, but the physical effects of the drug had clearly not worn off fully.

You looked up at him through your lashes and licked your lips suggestively, then flicked your eyes back down to his cock in your hand.

Loki’s head dropped back against the wall with a hollow clank. “Oh shit, oh fuck, yes p-please, baby, please—”

Before he could finish his stuttering request, you sank to your knees and took him as far into your mouth as you possibly could. He let out a broken moan when he slipped past your lips, canting his hips forward to chase the welcoming heat of your mouth. He was big, and you had to wrap your hand around the base of his cock to cover the length that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He shuddered above you, tilting his head down to watch you. You paused there, holding him, hot and heavy on your tongue. You waited a long moment, taking advantage of the fact that he was totally at your mercy. The longer you waited, the more he fidgeted, hips inching forward, cock twitching impatiently.

“I—”

When he started to speak, you interrupted him by giving him exactly what he wanted, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking hard. You thought back to what he’d said to you, replaying all those things he’d imagined you doing to him. You pulled back to circle your tongue along the head of his leaking cock and flicked it along his slit, working the rest of him with your slick hand.

While you bobbed up and down on him, your other hand wandered up his thigh and rucked his pants lower, easing his balls free. You massaged them, manipulating them between your fingers, and Loki’s head lolled back again, his head clunking dully against the wall. His knees buckled slightly, the chains connected to his wrists pulling taut as he gripped them. In the space where you had cut his shirt away, you could see his muscles rippling, the veins swelling under his pale skin as he flexed.

Taking him in your mouth had you aching for him, clenching your thighs together to try and relieve the growing tension. Losing patience, you released his balls and snaked that hand under your own waistband to press down on your swollen clit and whined around his thick cock.

Loki snapped his head down at the needy sound. His eyes followed your movement, and he gritted out, “Shit, does this turn you on, sucking my cock like this? Are you wet for me?”

You hummed around his cock and ran your fingers through your wet folds then extracted your hand from your pants, reaching up to drag your glistening fingertips over Loki’s knuckles where his fist was clenched around the chains.

“Fuuhhh-ckkk, I can’t wait to taste you, to feel how wet you are.”

With that same hand, you reached down and unzipped your pants. Loki let out an inarticulate string of syllables above you as he watched you tug your pants and panties halfway down your thighs with one hand. You let him slip from your mouth for a moment—working him over with long, tight strokes of your slippery hand in the meantime—to say, “Keep talking, tell me how you’re going to fuck me, Lo .”

You took him back into your mouth, and as you rubbed tight circles over your clit, he started rambling on about all the things he wanted to do to you, all the ways he wanted to explore your body: “F-fuck yes, I want to taste your pussy, I want to watch you finger yourself just like this until you’re dripping then-then let me lick your fingers clean—”

You whined around his girth; your body was responding to his words, the tension coiling tight and hot in your core. Your knees slid apart slightly on the slippery floor. They were going to be bruised blue and purple tomorrow. Worth it.

“Th-then I want to put a blindfold on you and-and lick your clit until you cum on my tongue. Yeah—oh shit, baby, yes, just like that, hnghhh—then, then I want to fuck you from behind, hard and deep, until you’re soaking my co—”

You moaned shamelessly, the sound vibrating deep in your throat, and he choked above you.

“Are-are you going to make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth?”

His eyes were glued to your face, the chain resting on his chestplate, as he angled his head down to watch you. You nodded slightly, eyes wide and desperate, pupils blown with lust, as you did your best to keep up your steady pace on his cock while you were simultaneously falling apart yourself. As the tension in your body built, your mouth and hand faltered on him, losing their rhythm, and your ministrations were suddenly stunted and irregular.

“Gods, you’re so perfect—use both hands on yourself, put-put your—”

You had all but stopped moving everything but the hand between your legs, eyes falling closed as you focused completely on your own impending orgasm. Following his directions, you dropped the hand on his cock down to your cunt, spreading your thighs more to push two fingers inside yourself. You let out another muffled noise, and you could tell that he loved the sounds you made with his cock stuffed in your mouth by the way his hips bucked forward.

One of your hands worked over the stiff peak of your clit, the other thrusting your fingers in and out of you, and that feeling—that delicious, fucking fantastic tension that had been building since the moment Loki had said he wanted to fuck you hours ago—threatened to snap.

“K-keep it in your mouth, just like that and make yourself cum—you’re close, I can tell you’re close—shit, fucking shit—”

He was throbbing on your tongue, pulsing with need. In the absence of the slick sounds of your mouth and hand working over his length, you could hear the sound of your own wetness as your fingers moved in and out of your dripping cunt.

“That’s right, pretty baby, cum with my cock in your mouth—fuck, I can hear how wet you are—look-look up at me—”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him just as your cunt tightened around your fingers. You let out a muffled wail around his girthy length as you came, and he groaned low and deep as he pressed his hips forward to keep himself buried in your mouth.

You slowed your hands to a still as the final reverberations of your pleasure waned, your moan fading to a quiet whimper. You pulled off Loki’s cock with a slick pop to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now you’re going to cum in my mouth.”

“Fuuckk—”

You gripped the base of his hard, leaking cock and wrapped your lips around him once more.

Right away, he started thrusting into your mouth, his knees buckling, most of his weight suspended on the chains gripped in his hands.

“C-close—”

His voice cut out, words replaced by feral moans and grunts, as he bucked into you.

You hummed around him, running your free hand up his quad, hooking it around the back of his leg to hold him in place against you. You could feel the way his muscles strained and clenched under your palm as his body grew taut.

“I’m—hnngh—”

He came with a hoarse shout that quickly got so loud that his voice cracked and gave out completely. And when you thought he was done, he was somehow still cumming, spilling hot and salty down your throat. You swallowed around him, taking everything he had to give you, until he stilled and you let him slip out of your mouth.

You pulled your pants up loosely around your hips and stood in front of him, swiping your knuckles across your glistening bottom lip.

Loki caught his breath and straightened, using the chains to pull himself up. That yank on his arm restraints proved to be the final straw for that solitary remaining bolt. You both whipped your heads up when—with a defeated whine—that piece of durasteel was ripped away, skidded down the wall, and crashed to the floor.

You looked at each other at the same time.

“So… how do you want me first?”

“Unchain me, and I’ll show you.”

***

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work Masterlist

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27

Part 28

Part 29

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Part 35

Part 36

Part 37

Part 38

Part 39

Part 40

Part 41

Part 42

Part 43

Part 44

Part 45

Part 46

Part 47

Part 48

Part 49

Part 50

Part 51

[simplyholl]

Punished

Summary: You're taught a lesson when you make President Loki jealous.

Pairing: President Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Noncon. Death.

A/N: This is a really dark fic please skip if it’s not your thing.

See my Masterlist here

“Don’t act shy now, my pet.” President Loki smiles wickedly. Using his iron grip on your hair, he jerks your head toward the crowded room of other Loki variants and men who worked for the him. Your lack of clothes made you want to shrivel up and hide from the stares of the other men. “You weren’t ashamed when you were spreading your legs for him, were you?”

His disgust evident in his voice, he gestures to the one Loki that looks just like him, his hands tied behind his back and two men restraining him. You had met him when the other variants stumbled upon him, and brought him to the bunker to hide from Alioth. He was so different from President Loki. He was lonely, just like everyone who ended up in this god forsaken place.

President Loki was your protector. He kept you safe in exchange for sexual favors. But you belonged only to him. He made sure everyone knew it. He was cruel to you, using you mostly as a sex toy. Loki, on the other hand, would sneak food and any trinkets he thought you might like. You grew closer until it bubbled over one night. President Loki was furious with one of the other men. He stole a piece of bread out of the President’s stash. It wasn’t like President Loki needed it. He hoarded all the food and anything he deemed of value. He and his men ate like kings while the rest of you went hungry most of the time.

So he was only making a show of this poor man, who thought he had no other choice. And he didn’t, not really. If you crossed the President, you would most likely end up dead. While the others attended the public slaughter of the man, you and Loki stayed behind. You couldn’t watch another human lose his life, and Loki stayed behind to comfort you.

Emotions boiled over, and Loki made love to you. President Loki noticed that the two of you were missing, so he sent one of his lackeys to look for you. When the man found you, it was obvious what you had been doing. You were both naked, lying together on Loki’s cot. The man yelled for the others who came rushing in to gawk at you. You tried to cover yourself, but they grabbed you.

When President Loki saw you, he sent you to the dungeon area where he held prisoners. You didn’t know if it had been hours or a few days when someone came to get you. You were worried sick about Loki. You knew he was probably long dead by now or tortured almost to death. So, you were surprised when you were brought out in front of the others and there Loki stood, seemingly unharmed. "Why did you sleep with him when you belong to me?" The President asks as soon as you enter the room. "I love him." You lower your head, scared of what he will do to you. "Love? You would die for love?" He asks, gesturing for his men to bring you closer.

President Loki sat on his throne, pants down low enough for his cock to be on display. You were forced to your knees in front of him. "I will decide your fate later, you will receive your first punishment now." His hand collects your hair in a makeshift ponytail, bringing your face down toward him. You try to ease him in, jaw stretching to accommodate him. He doesn’t let you adjust; he thrusts forward hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, a moan escaping his lips as he fucks your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, falling onto his thighs and green pants.

He laughs cruelly above you, loving your punishment. He keeps a steady rhythm, while you try to slacken your jaw and just take it. Finally, he pulls you off him, only to place you in his lap. Your back is against his chest as he lowers you onto him. His henchmen hold Loki's head forcing him to watch. Your breasts bounce as President Loki, slams you on his cock. You wait for the stinging to subside, but it doesn't.

You can't get wet like this; all his men's greedy eyes are on your trembling body, your lover watching as you have sex with your cruel master. The President knows your body by now, he's had you long enough. His thumb rolls over your clit, and your body starts to betray you. Arousal soaks his cock, his thumb moves faster and the moan that escapes you sounds foreign. "That's it, my little slut loves being punished in front of everyone. Doesn't she?"

You don't answer, ashamed that you are starting to enjoy it. A few seconds pass, when he realizes that you aren't going to respond, his hand leaves your hip to grip your chin. He jerks your face toward him, your eyes meeting his cold blue stare. "I will not repeat myself." He releases your face, now tingling where his fingers were. "Yes, I love it!" You answer as he sets a more brutal pace.

"Good girl" His fingers grip your hip harder. "Now look at him and tell him how much better I am, how you could only be satisfied by me alone." A tear slips down your cheek when you see Loki, looking defeated, his eyes on you. "I-" You start, throat constricting from holding back your sobs. "If you want to save his pathetic life, you will tell him." President Loki sneers, rough thumb swirling against you.

"You could never make me feel like this." Tears stream down your face onto your chest. President Loki waits for you to speak again. "I'll only want President Loki for the rest of my life. What we did was a mistake. You could never compare to him." You sob as the lies leave your lips.

President Loki bites your neck, thrusting upward and fingers dragging over your clit. He spills inside you, causing your orgasm to hit you out of nowhere, body shaking against him. When the last waves of pleasure subside, he leans forward, arms wrapping around you. "Tell him you don't love him. I better believe it." He commands. You didn't think you would ever stop crying.

You look at Loki, his eyes shining with tears he hadn't shed. You take a deep breath, using every ounce of courage you have to do what you have to. "I don't love you. I could never love you." You say so clearly, you shock yourself. A single tear flows across Loki's chiseled jaw. You can tell by the look he gives you; he forgives you. You had to do it. President Loki smiles, "Prepare him for public execution immediately. Chain her up, so she has to watch." "NO!" You cry, as he knocks you off his lap to the floor. "Let this be a lesson to all, never touch what belongs to me."

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE LOKI LAUFEYSON HEADCANONS

Man here won't really realize that he's a yandere for you at first. When he starts spending more time with you, he slowly starts realizing that he's growing feelings for you but wait... what's this feeling of bubbling anger and rage when he sees other people talking to you and making you smile and laugh? Don't you know that you're supposed to show your wonderful and angelic smile and laugh ONLY to him and HIM ALONE!!? Oh wait... no you don't since he hasn't asked you out yet. Oops.

Anytime he sees someone trying to woo you over he'd be enraged and pissed as hell and even that's an understatement. Loki when he's angry would be really scary, as soon as someone sees his angry expression they'd start running in the other direction screaming their head off

He doesn't want to kidnap you at the first go, no. He strongly thinks that since he's the silver tongued one, and the god of smooth talk and everything, he can charm people pretty well and when it comes to you, he prefers it if you fall for him on your own. It would make things much easier for the 2 of you. And no, he will not care if you are a mortal, immortal, Avenger, SHILED agent, whatever it is. Once he lays his eyes on you he will not lose his sight on you

He'll only kidnap you if he thinks it's absolutely necessary like you were being flirted at and hit on too much to his liking and he was kinda scared of losing you. And he has a sense of insecurity that you'll leave him for someone like his brother since well... he's much the family's golden boy and perfect child. if at all he decides to kidnap you, he'd most probably make sure you're away from Earth since he doesn't want the Avengers at the back of him and plus, you can always think of it as an extended or permanent vacation with him or something

Even if he kidnapped you he'd still treat you like a queen and spoil you with his love and affection. He literally drowns in his respect women juice here and he'll respect your privacy if you need and want some time alone. True he might be clingy at times and act moody and grumpy but if you ask him for some time alone he'll gladly step back for a while. Only for a while though, but after that he'll be all over you again

If you keep trying to escape or keep defying him man here will not hesitate to discipline you and trust me when it comes to punishments, all traces of smiles will vanish and he'll be downright terrifying. He won't think twice of using his magic on you to punish you and make you apologize for your actions. You should be grateful and glad that you're being cared and loved for by a god and instead of basking in his love you defy him every single day!? He's beyond pissed and as for escaping, that's a complete no go since he would have cast really strong magic around the place he's keeping you in that'll prevent you from escaping. Even if you have powers, they won't be of any use for Loki's magic

But after punishments Loki's after care would be really nice and heavenly. He'll give you lots of hugs and kisses and tell you not to do it again and it pains him to discipline you like that but it can't be helped. He has to do what he has to do to keep you with him but don't expect him to apologize for doing that to you since in his eyes, you're the guilty one and the wrong doer

Now as for people who think they can steal you away from him, how can you not expect them to be dead as soon as they even look at you twice? Any piece of trash who looks at you or even breathes the same air as you doesn't deserve to live

So... yeah, just play your cards right and you'll live the life of a royal :)

[widowsofchaos]

𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

synopsis: your menstrual cycle always pushes you to pure hysterics, thankfully your entrusted doctor is always there for you.

pairing: dark!loki laufeyson x brown!reader

ao3 // victorian au

warnings: dubious consent (slight sexual grooming), vaginal fingering, oral, nefarious medical practice, motional grooming.

a/n: for @cake-writes . I love you so much. :) did you know that in the Victorian period, physicians would perform pelvic massages that involved clitoral stimulation with early electrical vibrators to cure hysteria? traditional pelvic massages had been conducted for thousand of years, until western technology caught up. Dr. Silver Tongue prefers the old fashioned methods, hehe. hope ya’ll enjoy, this has been a draft for over 2+ years!

Spilling ichor is a woman’s curse.

Even worse, the womb begins its horrors at the precipice of girlhood. The excruciating pain that follows in its wake, so intense it feels as if fingernails are clawing at uterine walls.

Screams and wails for God’s sweet mercy, for the pain to cease. Bodies shivering in sweats, left so fatigued that one will rot away in bed. Praying under your breath, begging to just die.

Fits of rage and delusions—- once, at the high of your agony, you thought demons were crawling through your pink wallpaper, ready to devour you. Riddled with anxiety—- paranoid of everything.

Girls call it hell. Doctors coined it hysteria.

It’s nearing noon. He’s late.

Rattles of wheezes knock against your cavity, eyes sheening wet, as your bodice sinks and molds against the mattress. Lazily picking at your reddish cuticles, and the scent of copper lingering in the air.

The compulsive urge to throttle your bodice up and down in possessed fashion against the bedding, to gnash at the air with your canines, and howl —- perhaps, your calls would beckon him.

Groans slip from your mouth, as your abdomen is throbbing and swollen. Counting sheep mindlessly, trying to inhale deeply the packaged herbs that were prescribed to you —- but nothing is working.

The moans become more undignified. Your face is scrunching up, with tears kissing your lashes.

Faint footsteps creaking against the wood flooring, and voice muffled—- a tired gasp of relief and want escapes you. Strained whines stretch and bubble at the pit of your throat, eyes hawking your door.

The knob turns and creaks open—- what a glorious sight, to be greeted by emerald hues, and that pretty smirk. Those lovely cheekbones, and smooth ivory skin.

The dull glow of the sun illuminates through the heavy stitched curtain, and through the bedroom, with pretty pink wallpaper—- but the light shines his eyes ever so gracefully. Angelic.

A courteous bow of his head, that black hat over-casting his brow; lean and stands tall in such poise. Followed by your father, imposing and watchful.

Both can see you are too weakened to speak pleasantries, but can only greet them with a small smile and lazy eyes. Your father nods and leaves you both alone, but you could have sworn for just a glance, your father’s eyes are sharp from the sliver of the door.

A click of the door, and the air shifts.

He’s smiling with a hum. Ever so the gentleman, he lifts his hat off. He puts his leather gladstone bag gently by the edge of the bed, sits his hat on the nightstand, and begins to unbutton his long coat.

Loki holds his coat by the collar, neatly folding and placing it over your velvet chair.

It’s a quiet routine.

To be honest, this is the highlight of your day. Life of a curious socialite, stuck in your overbearing parents’ manor, primed to be a proper young lady, and young eyes to see only through a theological veil.

Dr. Laufeyson is a kind, and gracious man.

He came into your life last year. The menstrual cycles have gotten worse, and it has begun to worry your parents. He was recommended by your neighbors, the Maximoffs.

He is quite different from any man you have met.

“Hello, my dearest.” His voice is liquid smooth. His hand captures yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips. Mustering all the strength to speak, “Hello, doctor.” A bashful smile soon drops to a quivering frown.

A sharp pain that slices at your gut prevails.

Loki tauts sympathetically.

His slender fingers graze gently against your thighs, feathery touch. By the glide of his palms, he lifts your sheath. Cupping the meat of your thighs, the pads of his thumbs denting, already memorizing the sore points.

It’s an unspoken ritual.

How salacious to undress an untouched lady of society —- he barely takes his eyes off of yours. Heat radiates off of you in waves.

Shivers of shyness and an foreign need for want sweeps over the hills of your legs. It is wrong for a man to touch an unwed girl.

But he is a doctor, your doctor. He has to inspect your body. He has always assured you that his touch has always been for the good of your health.

Unusual methods Loki practices. Not like any doctor you had as a growing girl. Over the time, you have known Loki, he has bathed you, fed you, and massaged you all through the cycles. So intimate, yet not befitting of your unmarried status.

Any remnants of shame melts away as his bare palms begin to massage your thighs, maneuvering your legs to part. With an expert flick of the hem of your undergarments, dragging the now stained white fabric down, and off from your body.

A strong scent of blood fans the air, making you wince at the smell—- but Loki doesn’t deter. No sign of revulsion, you watch through your lashes—- he moves with a calm focus.

Loki’s presence has been comforting.

The way he speaks with such eloquence. Speaking to you as he would to an equal, rather at you. It’s natural to him to see you as you are, instead of a porcelain doll to be seen, not heard.

Conversations of shared love of literature, and the arts. His charming words bloom warmth inside you. He has a taste for histories, and has taught you the lessons he has learned back as a young man in university.

It is not for a girl to learn academic skills, for it is more important for boys to gain knowledge. But Loki told you many things—- and in return, you confined to him.

There were many occasions where Loki has found you forlorn. The root of your problem is your father, being overbearing, and callous. Either you weren’t being dutiful enough in your responsibilities, and pressuring the idea of marriage.

Loki would comfort you, tell you that a man should not speak so cruelly to his daughter. Private conversations that bordered on flirtatious tones—- how pretty you are, and that such a cherub face shouldn’t be dew with tears.

He is your only companion. You don’t encourage yourself to socialize in the circles your family frequent in, often seeking your solitude—- many high societal folks are too boring, and vain.

But Loki is colorful and adventurous. He speaks of wonder. He is not like any other man you had the displeasure of meeting —- boring sons of the men who work with your father. Stuffy and shallow men who only want a brood mare and a slave for a wife.

Loki excuses himself, as he walks to the wash stand perched near your vanity. Putting the stained underwear in the nearby basket. Rolling up his white sleeves up to his elbow joints, readying to fetch the wash basin and pitcher.

Loki’s fingers pat the smooth glide of the pitcher, humming contently—- the water is still warm. Quickly, and securely, he grabs the handle, begins to pour the lukewarm water into the basin.

The anticipation is intense. Breathing heavily now, a filthy part of you yearn for this touch. To feel his bare smooth fingers fondle with your mound, the sensation of his hands bathing your wet pubic hair, and his fingers slipping between your folds—-

The haze is ripped from you as he feels his knuckles caress your cheek. Shyly, you sink more into your chest, your lips purse into a coy smile. Loki towers over you as a gentle giant, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

In one hand, he puts the basin down on the nightstand, and on the other hand with a towel. Loki leans down, unraveling the towel, and maneuvering it underneath your bum.

The dull ache of him lifting you makes you whine. Loki shushes you, his thumbs stroking the path between your inner thighs and lower belly.

He turns to retrieve a clean rag and the soap.

Loki seats, dipping his palm in the water, twirling the red soap. Soap suds form and the scent of the carbolic solvent is heavenly.

His hand nears and the droplets rain on your abdomen, earning a sigh of relief from you. Rubbing the bar of soap in circular motions on your pubic bone, diving between your vaginal lips, soaping up your bush—- it was simply amazing.

Your head leans back into your pillow, practically moaning at the feeling—- at the feeling of his hand, and the sensation of being cleaned.

The dried crust of blood now being scrubbed away by the accompanying wet rag—- you didn’t even realize Loki moved to soak it, too immersed in the cleansing.

Completely lathery now, the towel underneath you sodden, and the water in the basin crimson. Loki puts the soap in the basin, it sinks.

The rag feels nice, soaked in warm water, washing away the excess of soap. Loki wrings the wet rag, the water dripping into the basin.

Washing away the soap from your mound, Loki’s thumb simultaneously stroking between your folds, ensuring there are no remnants of soap.

Cheekily, his fingertips slither more into your sopping hole. Tender and swollen, Loki’s two fingers flex slowly into your quim. Halting at the sound of a whine, but resumes when you mewl under your breath.

Loki muses to himself, delights that your whimpers are akin to a kitten. His fingers curl and bend as he sinks deeper inside you. Leisurely, his fingers twist— staining his fingers red.

“I do believe you are due for your massage.” Loki spoke with a silky husk. He spread his fingers, roving over your thighs, heavily petting you. A gasp leaves your mouth, as Loki’s fingers fuck you a little faster.

“Such tension.” Loki says with an empathetic smirk. You huff of breath, a strained moan. Smug satisfaction floods Loki, his smirk morphs to a pearly grin.

He playfully clicks his tongue, “She weeps on my fingers.” Loki can feel your essence dripping, coating his knuckles now. You’re panting into your pillow, as a thirsty stray, eyes pinched shut.

Your muscles are tightening around his fingers, sucking him inside, needing more. Curling at the soft spongy spot that sparks fluttery delight, jolting your head up, eyes moon-wide.

Chin to chest now, mouth gaped in a lazy O, unabashed wanton moans. Toes curling against the bed sheet, as fresh blood coats your thighs, and Loki’s thrusting hand.

Your hair clings to the beading sweat of your forehead, gripping the wrinkled sheets. Unabashedly, your hips thrust and follow Loki’s electric thrusting.

His fingers flee from your thigh to your bush, playfully his thumb and index split it open, as he slows down his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, as the pad of his thumb begins to play with your clit.

You nearly choke on your breath, you inhale so deeply, it feels like your belly caves against your ribs. Leisurely and purposefully, Loki does it slow, leaving you in desperation.

Whimpering for him to move in haste. Edging you just near the cliff, but not yet there. The sharp strain of your menstrual blurs with pleasure— so unladylike of you, to be as a starving animal, but it relieves you greatly.

You crave it, his touch, his scent—- you adore him. How lovingly his eyes bore into yours, as you lose yourself. The flesh of your thighs shiver, the knot in your belly tightening, making you whine.

“Yes, my sweetling.” Loki whispers, as your body twists, and your toes curl, “Release your pain.”

A flood of pleasure washes over your body. Your head tilts back as your mouth hangs open. Throat clenching but no sounds, just an airy gasp. Eyes pinching shut, and nose scrunching.

The euphoria of your orgasm is sensational—- you’re delirious with it. Chest heaving and hands clasping at the air, giggling with relief. Loki softly seethes his fingers from your moist cavern.

Wiping his finger clean with a towel, as your erratic breathing simmers down. He finds it amusing to see you flustered, he can see your bashfulness seep through—- down-casting your gaze, staring at your legs.

In a second, your eyes flutter upwards, to catch his penetrative stare. Loki’s hand dents into the bedding, right next to your forearm, more so trapping you.

His nose just hairs away from yours, his warm breath fanning your face. It only fuels you more.

“Faring well, darling?”

All you can do is nod, with a titter.

-

Placid ease settles over you. Comfortable and clean. Not yet in your undergarments, Loki says that it’s best to air you out, with your nightgown wrinkled at your midriff.

Loki rummages through his bag, searching through his medical equipment, to grasp the dark green bottle.

Loki grabs the bottle by its neck from his bag. Revealing brown printed lettering on crismon wrapping, Loki unplugs the cork. It catches your eye, it makes your nose scrunch.

Laudanum.

A very strong poison that your palate has not yet been fully accustomed to. Over the months, Loki has insisted that you drink this in small doses.

Very small doses.

Loki spills just a little more than a drop into the spoon. The reddish-brown liquid wafting by your nose, you groan childishly, but you make no fuss. Sweetly, he puts the spoon into the cave of your mouth, your lips wrinkling into a pout.

It’s so grotesquely bitter.

“I know,” he chuckles, “but now you can rest.” His words make the drink’s icky taste more appealing, for he does it to ensure you are content, and comfortable.

-

The laudanum has settled in your belly, and lulled you to a slumber. A cocktail of poppy, morphine and codeine. Administered for the most severe of pains.

Loki seats in silence, watching your chest fall to a steady rhythm of breath. He smiles. Loki muses to himself, you look like a sleeping beauty.

A smile forms at his mouth, relishing in the granted opportunity. His slender hands flex expertly, hovering over your belly, to your cotton-clad chest.

Loki twirls and unties the strings of your nightgown between his fingers. Revealing your bare chest, plump brown breasts display. He whispers marvelous under his breath. Tilting his head downwards, his teeth scrape your skin.

Every chance there is of you falling to a pacified sleep to the poison, Loki snatches the chance to taste you. His lips leave open-mouthed kisses, littering your breasts. Inhaling your essence as he ravages you. His warm wet tongue licks and twirls against your pebbling nipple.

His nose traces your skin down to your navel, to your abdomen, and finally to your lower pelvis. The scent of faint copper hits his nose, accompanied by the fresh scene of carbolic.

He doesn’t mind. Rather, Loki enjoys your blood connecting with his palate. Leaning more to your core, Loki’s pink tongue slithers out between his lips, and flicks at your clit.

His sculpted nose connects with your mound, his lips now suckle on the hood of your clit. Grazing his teeth ever so cheekily, earning a small wheezing pants.

You stir in your sleep, your body reacting to the pleasure he’s pulling from you —- as if he tugs on the silk rope, snagging the knot in your belly.

A savage urge overtakes him. Loki bites the supple brown flesh of your thigh—- nibbles melt to a few pecks, then back to devouring you.

Loki has plans. Too sweet and pure to let go of—- oh no, he yearns for you. The chase for you has heightened. Monthly visits can no longer sustain him.

Loki intends to ask your father for your hand in marriage. His income is more than satisfactory, able to provide you a life of comfortability, and passion. As a wolf who must tear apart his prey from the inside out, to ruin you— possessive over his prey.

None of his female patients have bewitched him. All were so eager for him to defile them, so haughty and pompous. Neither of them saw beyond his beauty.

But you, ever so sweet, only sought out a friend, and how easily you entrusted him. And Loki must enact his plan now. Last month, as he walked up the stairs to your room, he overheard your father discussing with your mother, over the prospect of marriage for you.

Loki has already purchased a ring, waiting in a velvet box.

He has already begun stripping the petals of your modesty. Small stepping stones to soon deflowering you completely. His cock swells at the mere thought.

Your velvety lips tug by the scrape of his canines. He moans a gust of hot breath, this sinful act causing your body to quiver unconsciously.

Loki’s pink tongue slurps your folds into his mouth, back to sucking on your clit. His lips are wet with your slick, and, menstrual, the corners of his mouth with splotches of red.

An impulsive urge vibrates from his knuckles to his fingertips.

Loki’s fingers itch with compulsion. Instead of sweetly plunging inside you—- oh, he thinks, an act done with gentility. But, I cannot awaken her from slumber. We have not yet reached this stage of our courting.

Traditionally, a doctor must massage his patient’s genitalia, not have his fingers explored, as he has done so freely. But, ever so naive and sweet, you do not know any better—- to you, Loki is simply doing his job.

A chaste darling, to approach you with the advance of tasting you, would have had you flying to your father. No—- he must break you down, piece by piece.

He stifles the thought, keeps his fingers at bay. Loki’s mouth keeps eating at your weeping welt, his warm tongue flickering against your sensitive clit. Unconsciously, your hips shutter gently against his mouth, spasming in your slumber.

Loki can taste your essence, moaning at your taste hitting his tongue. His eyes rolling in the back of his eyelids.

He turns his face a bit, still attached to your core, pecking small kisses on your inner thigh.

-

Loki dips his palm in the now chill bowl of water, snagging the sodden rag. Squeezing in his tight grip, water dripping, and splashing, a bit of soap is left.

Wiping away your essence, and ichor. Soothingly caressing your inner thighs with the rag, until all is gone. Loki puts the rag back, standing to his feet, as he goes to wash his mouth.

A simple routine where he finds peace. It’s a quiet shared between you two.

Patting dry his hands with a cotton white towel he found from one of the vanity’s drawers. Quietly and leisurely, Loki walks with a stride towards your bed. Standing over you, admiring his work.

A familiar routine: placing a rag inside your underwear, snuggling and cladding your mound, tying the strings to your nightgown, and pulling the rest of the fabric down your body.

Loki’s checks your pulse—- a perfect rhythm. Redressing himself, a swell of pride casts him. The sensation of your velvety core still dancing on his tongue. With a click of his bag, and flick of his coat buttons—- Loki begins his departure.

Softly closing your bedroom door, Loki walks down the stairs. His ears catch a few hushed words, one of them is marriage. No doubt, they were conversing about you.

As Loki reaches the bottom of the stairs, from his side-eye, he can see your father and mother waiting in the family’s living space.

“Ah, Dr. Laufeyson.” Your father stands from his chair with a weak grunt. A peculiar strain upon his face, he can’t meet Loki’s eyes.

“My apologies, but we cannot afford your services,” your father stammers at the sight of Loki’s pinched brow. “We had no other choice, as you know our daughter can be ill—” his panicked tone is interrupted.

Loki tilts his head, those green eyes ever so observant, a slick smirk curls. Savoring the sight of this man squirming.

“And how would you propose we solve this dilemma?”

“We can pay you in food, I can provide from my garden.” Your mother’s fragile voice pleads, standing to cling to her husband’s arm. Her fingers wrinkled his sleeve. Her eyes were blood-shot red. “You are a kind man, please understand.”

A memory of your bliss-stricken face flashes before his mind, and it provokes a breathy hum. An opportunity delivered to his feet by fate itself.

“Perhaps, I have a solution to satisfy both our needs.”

[lokisarium]

..and here's the close-up ♡

[lexytoga]

✨ Fangs ✨

(ref)

[darkserenity24]

Haunted

GIF by afreydycat

Dark! Loki x Reader/Thor x Reader

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘖𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙢𝙖𝙟𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙘𝙤𝙣/𝙙𝙪𝙗-𝙘𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙚𝙩𝙘.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Chapter 1

A nasty storm covered the beautiful countryside for the third night in a row.

You cursed silently as you stared out of the large window in the hallway, barely able to see the mess of wind-whipped trees, stray branches, and flailing leaves violently swirling about through the thick waterfall covering the window. You had no idea how you were going to get home in this weather, as it had gotten worse as the days passed. 

You overheard on the bus this morning that there was a warning for a possible hurricane in the county area where the Odinsons lived, but you paid it no mind, not wanting to have an excuse to miss a day of work. So you took the hour ride to your place of employment and were met with the flood of heavy rain as soon as you stepped off the bus.

Anyone else would have thrown in the towel and stayed within the safe walls of the manor to avoid the treacherous weather outside, but not you. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome here. Sure, one half of the Odinson's were kind but the other half you were a bit wary of. 

You didn’t want any of them thinking you were trying to freeload off of them just because of some bad weather. After all, you were just one of the many housekeepers that worked here. Your only business in a place like this was to keep it as pristine as possible. Nothing else. 

You flinched slightly at the sudden vibrations coming from the pocket of your uniform, tearing your eyes away from the darkness outside of the window and pulling your phone out. You sighed, being reminded of the other reason you couldn’t stay here tonight. Your baby sister.

“Hey Buttercup, what’s up?” you answered.

“Do you see the weather outside? It’s insane. When are you coming home?” The concerned voice of your younger sister rang out from your outdated smartphone. 

You sighed heavily, moving away from the window and down the dimly lit hall. “I don’t know, sweetie. It may take me a few hours longer to get home tonight, but I promise I’m still coming.”

You entered Odin’s study. It was currently empty and was a good place for you to take quick, discreet phone calls. The fireplace was still lit, embers gently crackling as the flames burned and you appreciated the warmth that was radiating throughout the room.

“Oh, okay. I can wait up for you. Just, um, be careful, please. They’re saying this is the worst storm we’ve had in years.”

“Yeah, they always say that. Dramatic beings, these weather people are. But don’t worry, I’ll get home soon enough. Maybe we can watch half of a movie before bed? I know that tends to relax you whenever you get nervous.”

She’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “Y-yeah that would. I’d like that.”

“Okay, then it’s settled. See ya soon, Buttercup. Oh- and make sure you eat dinner soon since I may be late. I think we still have leftovers in the fridge.”

You could practically envision her rolling her eyes at your mothering. “Yeah, I will. See you soon, Blossom.” 

“Love you.”

You end the call quickly, grabbing the nearby iron poker and using it to spread out the flaming logs in the fireplace. You only had fifteen minutes left until your shift was over and needed to finish checking the rooms on the second floor before making your much dreaded trek to the nearest bus stop which was a ten minute walk from the manor. You shivered, partially at the lack of warmth that covered the room after the flames were put out, and partially at the thought of how soaked you were going to be once you arrived at the semi-sheltered bus stop.

“Are you truly planning on leaving in this disastrous climate?” the cool voice of an unseen person inquired.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, snapping your head over to the doorway where a tall shadow lingered. 

Immediately recognizing the shape of the imposing figure and their refined regal voice, you let out a breath of partial relief, grip tightening on the fire poker you still held in your hand.

“Oh, hi, Loki. You, uh, startled me for a moment there.” You send him a pained smile, doubting he could see it through the darkness that covered the room.

He only tilted his head, his dark curly locks falling to the side with the movement. He was still crowding the middle of the doorway, hands in his pockets as he simply… observed you.

He did this quite often, and it was always just as chilling each time. He observed you more than he spoke to you, so when he did, it always put you in a state of momentary shock. Out of all of the Odinsons in the manor, he was the most quiet, slinking around the house as if it was his job to watch over everyone. As if it was his job to watch over you. Sometimes he’d simply observe you, watching as you dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floors, or cleaned the laundry. He seemed curious for the most part, but other times you’d catch a glint of something else in his gaze. Something a bit less innocent and more nefarious. Darker. 

At this moment, you couldn’t tell how he looked, only witnessing the shape of his familiar silhouette.

You gulped. Setting the poker back into its place before walking over to the lamp on a nearby desk, switching it on with a click. Warm light flooded the room and you were glad to finally be able to fully see the youngest Odinson of the manor. It was strange to think of him as the youngest, as he was still several years older than you.

Blue-green eyes were still focused on your figure as if he was waiting for you to say something.

You self-consciously smoothed down the errant curls at the back of your neck that had escaped your bun. “I was just finishing up here, as um, you can see. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

He raised a dark brow at you. “You still have yet to answer my question.”

You frowned, rummaging through your tired brain to figure out what he was talking about before your mouth formed into an ‘o’. “Oh yeah, s-sorry, I'm kind of tired so my mind’s all over the place. Yes, I’m going to leave in a few more minutes, just finishing up here.”

“Why?”

His question caught you off guard. What’s it to him? 

You considered yourself a professional, so you often made it a point to answer your superiors, regardless of how strange their questions were. 

“Well, I need to get home. Mr. Odinson said I could leave an hour early because of the storm.”

Loki blinked, his brow twitching slightly as he glanced away before meeting your hesitant gaze again. “That’s absurd. We have plenty of space as you obviously are also aware. You can stay for the night and retreat in the morning once the weather calms.”

Your mouth opened as you considered his words. Out of the five years you worked in the Odinson home, you had never stayed the night once. It was not something you were comfortable with doing because it was not your home. You had your own home- well, apartment near the city. It was small, and not nearly as regal as the Odinson manor but it was yours. Yours and your sisters.

You spewed out an excuse. “Um, that’s very kind of you but I think I’ll be okay. I need to get home to my sister. She’s waiting for me.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with waiting for you to arrive tomorrow.”

“No, sir, I'm afraid she needs me.” You bit your lip, not missing the way his analytical eyes lowered to the nervous habit you had. “I’m all she has, and her only caretaker.”

You knew you were giving him way too much unnecessary information about your personal life but you needed to make him understand that you weren’t staying the night here. His offer was kind but what you said was true. Zuri needed you.

The young Odinson looked as if he wanted to protest, staring at you as if you were defying his orders before his gaze dropped to the floor as he sighed.

“Alright, if you must,” He looked back up at you and you felt some relief at his words, but not for long. 

“However, I’m taking you home myself.”

You tried your best, you really did. But if Loki wasn’t a lot of things, he sure was a stubborn man.

He ignored your carefully crafted words of decline at his offer- no his declaration to take you home. Nevertheless, you found yourself in the passenger's seat of his sleek back car that probably cost triple the amount or more than your yearly salary, holding on tightly to your bag as he maneuvered you both through the nearly flooded streets. 

His car was way faster than a bus, and you knew you’d be home in no time. He didn’t say a word on the car ride home, only keeping his eyes on the road before him.

You glanced over at him from time to time, seeing the dark shadows of the rainy night pass over his face. Loki was absolutely stunning. Along with his older brother Thor, he was a beautiful specimen of a man, and from what you know of him, he was also ridiculously intelligent. It was completely unfair. He had the money, the brains, and the looks. All of the Odinsons did, but unlike the rest of them, Loki was the only one who intimated you. 

He was not as kind as Thor or Frigga, he was more like his father, Odin. Odin had a similar quiet yet unnerving demeanor as his youngest son, but he still never made you feel the way Loki did. The man was not known as being very kind to the staff at the manor, or really anyone else. He seemed to barely tolerate his family, throwing disinterested remarks to Frigga from time to time while insulting his brother and ignoring his father. You’ve even witnessed him reprimanding another housekeeper for entering his room without his permission. Luckily enough, he seemed to save his words when it came to you, preferring to watch you like a hawk instead which was just as unsettling.

Loki reminded you of the treacherous and highly dangerous weather you were both driving through. He was like a silent storm, just lurking around the manner, sneaking up on you and looking as if he was going to reign down terror on you at any moment. But he never did.

You were just a housekeeper, no one important, yet here he was taking you to your hole-in-the-wall apartment building that was miles away from his family’s secluded home in the countryside. You didn’t know why he was doing this, but you were also too afraid to ask, not wanting to offend him in some way. You were fine to just assume that he wanted you to get home in one piece so you didn’t show up for your next shift at his home sick as a dog because you were stubborn enough to try to take the bus home in this weather. That made the most sense to you, and you liked things that made sense.

When Loki arrived at your apartment building, you tried your best not to cringe in embarrassment as he observed the surroundings. The neighborhood you lived in wasn’t terrible, but it was not as clean and fancy as the one he lived in.

You pulled the handle to the door, attempting to open it, yet it didn’t budge. You slowly peeked over towards the man in the driver's seat, not surprised that he was already watching you.

He ran his eyes over your tense frame before turning his head towards the front window of the car. 

“I expect this storm will not prevent you from tending your duties at the manor tomorrow, correct?”

You blinked at his question before nodding. “N-no sir, of course not. I will be there for my shift in the afternoon as soon as the weather clears up.”

He nods stiffly, squinting his eyes as if something displeased him. You thought about your answer, trying to figure out if you said something wrong.

“Very well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Odinson.”

Though he looked reluctant, he unlocked the door and you exited the car, heading into your apartment building and up the three flights of stairs.

When you got inside, you headed into the bedroom, seeing Zuri sound asleep in her bed. Your shoulders dropped in relief to see she was okay. You knew she got nervous when she had to be alone for a while. 

Quietly you walked over to the small window, peeking between the blinds. You were surprised to see the familiar black car still idling by the curb in front of the building. 

It was another five minutes before it left, speeding down the dimly lit and water-flooded streets.

Story Masterlist

DarkSerenity's Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ;)

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

[five-miles-over]

The Phantom of Asgard (Thor: The Dark World!Loki x Reader)

Summary: Rumors say that a phantom haunts the darkest hall in the royal palace of Asgard, but is he truly as dangerous as the people of Asgard claim he is? You and your friends decide to investigate one night for yourselves.

Warnings: Mentions of character death

"We shouldn't be here."

"Then keep your voice down!" 

You silently tiptoed, following your friend Revna, a damsel with long black hair whose fingers were wrapped around the end of a burning candle. Ingrid, whose skin almost glowed as much as her honey blonde curls did in sunlight, trembled with every step. 

You met Revna and Ingrid through serving together as ladies-in-waiting to the late Queen Frigga. You were all of Asgardian noble blood, sent to the palace in hopes of rubbing shoulders with some of the most elite of the Aesir. But after her untimely passing and the war with the Dark Elves came to an end, the All-Father King Odin made the simple decision to keep you in service of the royal family. Only instead of having you serve Prince Thor or the king himself, Odin decreed that the three of you were to be educated in political science and history like the noble boys of Asgard. With a twinkle in his eye, the All-Father proposed that if you three were properly educated, then you could join the council as a division of ladies to advise the future king of Asgard. 

And as a result, your new schedules left you with a newly found period of free time every night, since you wouldn't be on watch for anyone trying to harm a member of the royal family. "We're getting closer,…" Revna muttered before Ingrid reminded her to keep the candle at the level of her eye.

"I think there's a library somewhere here…" You glanced over your shoulder to find a tapestry of the late queen hanging, her likeness captured with vivid shades of turquoise and gold. "I don't understand, why shouldn't we be here?"

"This is where they say the Phantom of Asgard resides." Ingrid explained in a hushed whisper as the three of you made your way past gray stone figures depicting warriors from lore. Placed along either side of the hall, it was as if they were standing vigil while in their immortalized, lifeless state. "He resides past the throne room, in the darkest of chambers."

"That explains why no one's lit any torches or lamps." Revna grumbles before Ingrid says for the second time to keep the candle at eye-level. "My arm is getting tired!"

Ingrid continued to narrate, "I've heard rumors that the phantom is the ghost of a soldier who gave his life defending Asgard. But others say he's a monster in the palace, he'll hurt us."

"Come now," you chastised Ingrid, walking past another tapestry hanging on the walls of the palace. "There can't be a Phantom. It's probably just some trick made up by the Prince of Lies."

"Also known as the God of Mischief?" Revna interjected. "He's dead." 

"I don't believe it."

Revna quickly turned around. "What?"

Ingrid shushed you and repeated, "Candle! Level of your eye."

This time, Revna rolled her eyes and simply switched hands. "If he weren't dead, then why is the All-father commissioning for a statue of the trickster god to be built outside the palace?"

"How would I know?" You carefully stepped over a small abandoned dagger laying on the floor. "All I know is that the first time it was announced that Prince Loki was no more, he was found on Midgard attempting to lay siege."

As if on cue, a powerful guest of wind blew past the three of you, sending a chill down your spine. The flame of Revna's candle flickered. "See!" Ingrid pointed behind you. "The Phantom heard us!" 

"Really?" Revna sighed loudly. "Ingrid come on…"

"I'm telling you," you huffed. "There. Is. No. Phantom!"

No sooner had you said those words, a more powerful gust of wind blew past you and extinguished the candle, sending the three of you into near-darkness, save for the faint moonlight from the glass window at the end of the hall. 

"Oh my god!" Ingrid whimpered. She clutched your arm with a vice-like grip. "See what you've done?!"

Revna assured her, swallowing. "It's okay…it's okay. Nothing's going to happen." She remained with her feet planted to the floor.

A shatter. You were almost certain that there was no crack in the window…until now. A jagged crack as if someone had thrown a pebble at it. 

Then, one of the stone figures standing in the hall - a warrior with a horned helmet holding a weapon at his hip, fell face-first, just barely missing Revna. As soon as the statue landed against the floor, its head split into pieces before your very eyes, horns and all. 

"That's…not okay." Revna gulped, taking a step back with baited breath. Her foot caught in the hem of her gown, causing her to lose balance. You caught her just in time, letting go of Ingrid while Revna held the candlestick for dear life. 

You steadied her. "We have to get out of here…Go back the way we came."

Ingrid's eyes filled with tears, and she choked on a sob. "Please, please tell me now you believe there's a Phan-" She was drowned by the sound of her own hysterical screams. A second crack….and then a third appeared in the window.  "I don't want to die…Please, no!"

Now was Revna's turn to shush her. "If anyone finds us, we could either be dead, or worse, banished. Now let's go." 

The three of you murmured in agreement, reluctantly promising to staunchly deny if anyone asked if you were roaming the palace at night. You hitched your skirts and scurried down the hall as quickly as possible, even though you could barely see anything in your way. Guided only by the sound of each others' footsteps and heavy panting, you only had a single thought in mind: go back the way you came here, and find your shared bedroom as possible. Before you could be caught by any guards or servants with a propensity to gossip. Your heartbeat quickened as you continued to run for your life. Suddenly, in the midst of your attempted escape, you tripped over something - perhaps it was the fabric of the carpet or perhaps your own clumsiness worsened by fear - and landed on your knees. "Revna! Ingrid!" In the midst of you shouting for your friends, a gloved hand covered your mouth.

A strange whisper tickled your ear. "No need to be afraid…There is no Phantom," the mysterious voice echoed your words from earlier with a touch of theatrical sarcasm. "Just a trick made up by the Prince of Lies." 

The gloved hand remained over your mouth. "If you scream," the mysterious voice warned you while another hand rested on your waist. "I promise to show you no mercy. Understood?" 

You nodded, trembling while you rose to your feet. 

"Good girl." 

With a wave of the gloved hand, golden candelabras spontaneously appeared along the hall, burning brightly. And emerging out of thin air was a large, rectangular mirror with a bronze-like intricate border that shined with such a luster that the untrained eye could mistake it for gold. You treaded lightly towards your own reflection.

Once again, the mysterious voice filled your ear. "Now you see me…" 

Behind you stood a tall man with ebony curls reaching his shoulders. He wore a tailored black waistcoat with long sleeves, and silk black gloves. An emerald green mask decorated with gold glitter obscured the left half of his face, yet…why did he seem so familiar?

Your fingers inched towards the side of his face, beneath his cheekbone. The masked one sighed, leaning in closer so that his nose nestled against your hair while he delighted in your delicate touch. You trembled as your fingertips brushed against the smooth, unblemished skin. His hand encircled your waist once again, and you decided to be bold. Reaching for the edge of the mask, you carefully began to lift it…

"No." He said it with such a dark desperation in his voice, and his other hand caught your wrist. 

"I want to know who you are." 

"You already do."

Lowering your hand, you silently contemplated for a moment, allowing the masked one to simply cradle you in his arms from behind. "You're the God of Mischief," you uttered to his reflection. "You're Prince Loki."

A smile appeared on the face of the masked god, the smile of a mastermind at the end of a successful plan. Joyful yet reserved, like he already knew the outcome and had envisioned it in his mind several times before executing his plans. 

"But you're…dead," you murmured, exercising extreme caution with the last word. "How could you be here? In these halls? I don't understand."

"And yet from the beginning, you knew it was me behind this mask…How, sweet one?"

Your eyes followed Loki's fingers as they glided along your arms before resting on your shoulders. "I cannot say, my Prince….I just knew."

A quiet laugh escaped him. "Or is it because you knew only one could cause such havoc in these halls"?" A wider smile on his face, the god of mischief pressed his lips against the top of your head.

"How did you survive?" A flush of heat spread across your cheeks.

"Because it's what I always do."

You blinked, unable to look away from the mirror for even a second, as if someone had cast a spell of hypnosis upon you. "And what will you do now?"

"Nothing yet." He simply said. "You are the only one who knows."

"Even the All-Father?" 

Loki nuzzled against the base of your neck, leaving you weak in the knees. "I do not wish to speak of him tonight." He reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. "I promise to you, all will be revealed in time." The god of mischief then combed his fingers through sections of your hair, taking his time with every touch as if he wanted to memorize exactly how you felt. "Rest now, my sweet, for I will call upon you again. From this night, you belong to me, and I to you."

And with a simple wave of his hand, your surroundings disappeared to darkness. "My prince?" You called, looking around only to be met with silence.

Then, a single candle appeared seemingly out of thin air, with a small, flickering flame. You found yourself alone, inside that same hall, instantly recognizing the tapestry of the late queen that decorated the wall. Only this time, the window at the end of the hall bore no cracks, and the fallen statue stood upright in its original place, perfectly standing vigil. 

And on the floor, next to your feet, lay a single white lily with a dark green ribbon tied around its stem. A lasting promise from the Phantom of Asgard.

Tagging: @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl  , @lokisninerealms  @jennyggggrrr  ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines  , @lokiismineforever  @smolvenger  @winterfrostlovetriangle  , @the-haven-of-fiction  , @turniptitaness   @cakesandtom  ,@sallymagnoliaposts  @leahs-reading-nook  @holdmytesseract  @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen @aesonmae @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue

[thehydraethereal]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ writing update

i have decided to stop writing smut. it doesn't matter if it's consensual or not, it just doesn't sit right with me. i have decided to explore the intensity of emotions in my writings and fics, and writing smut does not help me with that.

so, i want to update my account a little and to get some new writing done. (my old requests will be published, but i cannot guarantee that though and i apologize).

^ྀི the themes i'll write from now on are mostly dark, which will include: manipulation, lying, violence (choking, hair pulling, etc.), domestic violence (slapping, etc.), abducting, captivity, restraints, depression, stalking, fear, crying, sexual harassment and nonconsensual touching/ kissing but nothing more than that !!! basically i'm exploring any dark theme except smut.

so, i would like to get some inspiration and you sending me requests would enormously help. please, don't hold back. i know how hard it may be to find a fic that has everything you'd fancy, and i'm so down to fulfill that for you. if you request a series, i'll make it happen, but please, if you're anon, choose an emoji for yourself so i know you.

^ྀི characters i will be writing for:

𝜗𝜚 chris evans: ari levinson, ransom drysdale, lloyd hansen, steve rogers, johhny storm, andy barber, curtis everett

𝜗𝜚 sebastian stan: lee bodecker, bucky barnes, lance tucker, nick fowler

𝜗𝜚 chris hemsworth: thor, tyler rake, steve abnesti, dementus, stone crandall, billy lee, the huntsman

𝜗𝜚 tom hiddleston: loki, jonathan pine, cpt. james conrad (kong), cpt, nichols (warhorse)

𝜗𝜚 henry cavill: clark kent (superman), geralt (the witcher), sherlock holmes, melot (tristan and isolde), august walker, walter marshall

𝜗𝜚 others: logan howlett (wolverine), wade wilson (deadpool), brock rumlow, rafe cameron, tony stark, any brad pitt character, patroclus (troy 2004), achilles (troy 2004)

p.s: thank you for being so supportive. i am looking forward for your requests, i am so excited for this new chaper, so please, if you have ANY request, send it to me.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 1

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 boss gives you a task you're not prepared for.

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 ❤️

“I think it’s best it comes from you,” Tony pats your shoulder. You stare at him in disbelief. 

“Me?” You bat your eyes dumbly. “But I just... I’m just passing along the information--” 

“Look, sweetheart, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis here.” He flashes his phone screen at you. The talk of Stark Tower has been his latest disaster out in the middle of nowhere. Usually, these things are forgotten but an unfortunate post has made the rounds. “You delivered the message perfectly, you can do it again.” 

“But, sir, with due respect, this isn’t exactly in my job description.” You walk backwards as he strides around his desk and tucks his phone away. 

“Your job is to do what I tell you to do. Now,” he looks at you, his eyes flicking up and down, “I think you’re the best possible carrier pigeon for this. Look at you. That ungodly asshole can’t be mad at you and I definitely am not telling him. Not without another explosion and I’m on probation right now.” He taps his chest and his suit expands around his body. “His brother should be wandering around, maybe he can help control the beast.” 

“Sir, don’t make me do this--” He goes to the window and hits the button to pop out the pane. 

“I pay you well enough, sweetheart, so get to work.” He jumps out and his helmet covers his head, blue flame blasting from his heels and gloves as he takes off into the sky.  

You cringe and look down. You should quit. You’ve been reciting the mantra to yourself for months; quit, quit, quit. You wish you had that choice. So far, your resume hasn’t baited any takers. Even with all your work for Stark Industries. Considering who your reference is, you’re starting to wonder. 

You glance around and steel yourself. You walk out of the office and down the hall. Your low heels click, in slow tempo with your dread. You trawl the top floor, searching for a certain blond giant. Thor isn’t anywhere to be found. You’ll have to try the compound... maybe you could just give them a call. 

No, you know Mr. Stark wouldn’t like that. Even if you could get a hold of either of the Asgardians, your boss would make you face the music in person. You take out your phone and scroll through the contacts. Most of them, you’ve never had to call, they’re only there for emergencies and usually, you’re not the one calling them for that. 

You put the phone to your ear as it dials. It rolls for so long, you’re certain you’ll get the voicemail. It picks up at the last moment, the line buzzing and unclear. 

“Hel-lo?” Thor’s deep baritone greets you. “It is the little assistant, yes?” 

You can just make out his hazy words. “Yes, Mr. Odinson? Can you hear me?” 

He laughs and you hear him shuffling around. The crackling stops and the line clears. “Mr. Odinson. You Midgardians. It’s Thor.” 

“Yes, Thor, well, um, where are you?” 

“Is there something the matter?” He asks as his tone turns dire. “Where are you, little one?” 

You ignore the question tossed back at you and clear your throat. “Um, it’s about... um, I think it would be best if we had this discussion face to face but Mr. Stark told me to pass on some news and yeah... I’d like to meet up if poss--” 

“Little one!” Thor appears before you, out of breath, his phone clutched in his hand. He didn’t hear a damn thing you just said. You smile. You’ve trained that expression so well, it’s almost believable. “Where is the danger?” 

You almost laugh. It’s endearing to have him so concerned. You doubt his brother will be as accommodating. 

“Hi, uh, like I said, it’s nothing serious. It’s erm, do you know where you brother is?” Your voice hits a pitch so high it makes your ears hurt. 

“Ugh, what has he done now? I swear, I’ve told him--” 

“It’s nothing he’s done. Well, it’s kind of it. Okay, um, Thor, I need to talk to your brother.” 

“Loki? You need to talk to him? No one wants to talk to Loki,” he narrows his eyes in consternation. 

“Yes, well, I have a job to do. I’d also appreciate if you’d be there to, you know, act as mediator,” you make yourself small as you push your shoulders up to your ears. “Please?” 

“Of course, little one, of course, let us go find that snake!” He grabs your arm before you can react and almost has you off your feet as he drags you down the hall. “I left him in the lobby. He isn’t fond of this place.” 

Maybe that will make this all easier, you think. 

Thor doesn’t slow down. You stumble with him as you struggle to keep your shoes from falling off. You tap his arm as you get to the elevator. 

“Really, we can take our time,” you assure him as he jams his finger into the down button.  

You’re really in no hurry for any of this. You’re almost hoping that if you put this off longer, someone else might just come along and tell them for you. You know that won’t happen but you can hope. Even so, Tony has more important things to do and as usual, you’re left with his grunt work. 

[ellamuffin97]

Truth or dare ? 💚

Rating: +18

Word count: roughly 3.5k

Summary: playing a round of “Truth or dare” with the Avengers you challenged Loki for a dare -and he accepts it .

Warnings :NSFW,+18,smut,drinking , kissing,breast playing,fingering, edging,overstimulation, orgasm control, spanking , consensual sex

Final :orgasm, creampie , cum , a bit of soft Loki cuddles

The bottle was spinning and everyone held their breath. Steve had already danced the Macarena, Dr Banner had to eat fish which he totally doesn’t like at all , Thor was stripped , only in his underwear , Tony had to chew a whole box of menthol chewing gums and Natash had to scream her lungs out the balcony that her only boss in life is Tony Stark. As everyone watched, the bottle stopped turning, pointing its neck at Bucky.

"Yes!" Natasha yelled, raising her fist in triumph, "Truth or dare?"

Everyone turned their eyes on him while Bucky let out an annoyed huff, the corners of his lips pulling into a disgruntled pout. "This is dumb." Yet, after a short pause, he scoffed "Ok, dare."

"Alright!" she squeaked with joy, squeezing her eyes shut, "Tell us a joke."

"A what?" Bucky's face went blank.

"A joke. You know, make people laugh," Natasha's voice oozed with disbelief but she grinned like a thousand volts nonetheless.

Bucky’s face was still blank, deep in consideration though.

Then he rasped slowly "Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"

Silence.

"Because it was dead." He deadpanned.

Silence again.

"Ewww, that was gross!" Natasha broke the silence and stuck out her tongue, cringing as was the rest of the members, "And not funny at all."

"Mate, don't ever– just don't," Tony took a shot glass, filled it up, and held it up "Drink up. That was horrible, you deserve it."

Bucky drank up, but not without glowering at everyone.

Next was your turn. You spun the bottle and everyone stared at it expectantly. It stopped pointing at Loki.

His smug grin spread wide in his face when your eyes met. Before you could even open your mouth he already said "Dare for you,cutie."

You rolled your eyes. He was always like that. Smug and annoying. And handsome. He brought your blood to a boil in an instant with his cocky attitude. Time you showed him who held the reigns. "I dare you to get a Jacob's ladder!"

Just as fast as you said that your hands shot up to cover your mouth, cheeks going ablaze, eyes wide with shock over the words that had just come out of your mouth. The entire room had fallen silent, everyone was staring at you both, waiting for the scene to unravel in front of them.

But Lokis smirk spread even wider as he leaned forward to get closer to you, his mesmerizing blue eyes boring into yours.

“Already have that doll. Long time ago when I started dating midgardian women . be more original," he cocked his head and raised his brow, eyes half-lidded.

A deep inhale went around the room at his revelation, and you felt a heat pool deep in your guts, your cheeks going ablaze even further. At a loss for words, you did not know how to respond. Blood rushed in your ears and then you heard Loki break the silence.

"Now here's my dare. Your room or mine?" He rasped, holding out his hand.

Still too dumbfounded to respond, he raised to his feet, grabbed your hand, and pulled you up. With a big knowing grin, he dragged you off to the hallway, waving the others farewell with the words "Y'all can continue playing alone. Don't expect us back for the night."

“Hey rain deer games don’t even think that I will let you …Tony started but he s been cut out by Natasha’s elbow in his ribs . Her eyes burned him alive because she knew you held feelings for him and it was finally the time that he took the first step .

Once you reached the hallway, you blurted out "Loki. What the fuck are you doing?"

But before you got an answer he crashed you against the wall, latching his lips onto yours.

“I am aware of your feelings my little mortal *he cooed . And I am willing to show you that I feel exactly the same way as you

The kiss was so hungry, hot, and eager. His tongue dug deep into your mouth, while he pressed against you, his bulge already hard, straining against the fabric of his pants, rubbing into your hips.

A little whimper escaped your mouth, as his one hand slipped behind your neck, holding you in place, the other one trailed under your shirt.

The kiss got deeper the further up his hand got until it cupped your breast through your bra and that's when your resolve melted, moaning into his mouth, shuddering while a shiver crept up your spine.

“Lo please *you whimpered . Show me what you’ve got .

There was a slight chuckle against your lips and he squeezed your breast, first once then twice until he got impatient and pushed your bra up and your tits spilled free.

Your breaths turned heated, his lips pressed harder on your mouth, he tilted your head to dive in deeper as he alternately groped your breasts.

His hips rutted against you now with a feverish pace when he suddenly let out a curse and broke free, having you gasp for air. His eyes glowed hungrily, taking in your disheveled state.

"Y/n, you're gonna make me cum if we continue like this," he huskily whispered, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You pulled your bra back down, swallowed, and managed to croak out "Your room then," mind still dizzy from the heated encounter.

He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you with him towards his room. Once through the door, he used his Æsir to kicked it shut and also put a spell on the room to become soundproof then finally he was all over you again.

It was a stripping off clothes, a stumbling, heated kisses pressed against each other's lips as you both managed to bridge the distance to the bed. Loki had kicked off his boots and you frantically pulled off his tunic revealing his lean, muscular torso .

Your breath hitched at the sight but he just shrugged and moved about getting you undressed.

Standing in your underwear in front of him, he cocked his eyebrow and whistled "Never knew you hide such perfection under all those clothes," and you couldn't help but feel the redness spread through your cheeks again.

He stepped up to you, and you felt his bodyheat, could smell him again, this intoxicating mix of whiskey and cinnamon . Your chest heaved and fell with every deep excited breath you took.

There was an insatiable hunger in his vibrant eyes and he pushed you slowly towards the bed. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you looked up at him.

"Lo, I-" but you couldn't finish when his hands wrapped around your back and with a squeak of yours toppled you over, laying you onto the soft sheets.

Not breaking eye contact, you propped yourself up on your elbows, crawling back, making room for him.

Chuckling lowly, he kneeled down as you watched him pull your panties down. He let out a sharp hiss through his teeth seeing the strings of wetness clinging to your panties snap, as he pulled them lower.

"Fuck Y/n–" was all he was able to mutter as you lifted your legs and he pulled the string of fabric off, smelled on them, and tugged them in his pant pocket.

“Ready to have some fun?” he straightened up, cocked his head, and grabbed his fat hard bulge with his hand, squeezing it and letting out a pleased groan.

You nodded shyly and he bent forward again, moving to hover over you, his eyes eyes so seductive, they seemed to suck you in. His lips were suddenly so close, his breath hot on yours and then he met you for a sultry kiss, lazily working his mouth against yours.

Writhing below him, you lifted your arms to weave your fingers through his soft raven hair, while he rutted his dick against you, thrusting hard against your already swollen sex. You could feel the heat of his erection through his pants, and you were gonna go insane if you didn't feel him inside you soon.

Arching your back, he snaked his hand behind it and undid the latch of your bra with his skilled fingers. Continuing to kiss, he pulled it off, while his mouth trailed down along your cheek, continuing to press hot kisses all over your neck and collarbone.

Once his mouth reached your breast, he started lapping, kneading them with his large calloused hands and you couldn't help but let out a choked gasp. He bit into your nipple, ignoring your sudden shriek. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut, moaning out as every lick and nip sent a shiver up your spine. Eventuall pulling back, he released your breast with a plop and looked at you with eager eyes.

You were squirming below him, the heat between your legs burning like a melting furnace, needing more of him as you arched your back, begging for him to please you.

"So needy–"he purred into your inner thigh skin

“Yes,” you whimpered, too drunk on the feeling of him so close, invading all your senses.

His hand slowly snaked downward, coming to a rest over your warm folds and then he slowly slid his fingers over them. First once, then twice with an agonizingly slow pace.

“Gods , so wet,” he shuddered, teasing his fingers over your cunt again while you let out a weak whimper.

He started rubbing your clit, repeatedly dipping down to stroke over your pussy having you choke out one moan after another. With each swipe and flick over your clit you felt the climax nearing until you were right on the edge, closing your eyes in anticipation – but then he pulled his fingers out.

"LOKIIIIII !" You wailed out in frustration, throwing your head back at the sudden loss of stimulation, but he just chuckled lowly.

"What?" a smirk spreading across his face, knowing all too well what you were implying.

You moaned, hating his smugness, and reached down to try to give yourself the much-needed stimulation. But he grabbed your hand, pinning it above your head, latching onto your neck, and started sucking, leaving a reddening mark.

Then he eased two fingers inside of you without a warning. Your eyes went wide and you gasped at the sudden stretch. Clenching around his fingers, that relentless stimulation had the tension inside of you so close to bursting. He kept rutting his fingers in and out of you while you moaned and writhed beneath him, eyes almost crossing with lust.

But then, just as you were about to fall off the edge again, he stopped, pulling his fingers out, holding them high to show you the glistening juices clinging to them.

“Fuck– Loki," you choked, somehow managing to swap him at his broad chest, nearly in tears from being denied again.

He just snickered softly into your neck, teasing his fingers over your quivering cunt as he waited for you to come down.

As your breathing had calmed a bit, he pushed his fingers back into your pussy. Oversensitive and frustrated as you were, you couldn't help a shuddering moan from falling off your lips. As soon as his dexterous fingers curled up against your special spot, you were a goner, your climax surfacing so quickly, it had you breathless.

All you knew was him inside of you, pumping his fingers into your g-spot. You were speeding toward your orgasm, bucking off the bed, pushing your hips to meet his fingers, wanting him to go deeper. You started whimpering, your cunt tightening around him as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge again. You couldn't form coherent words anymore, desperately needing the release.

When you were about to release, your legs shivering, aching, falling to the side, your walls suddenly clenched around nothing as he pulled his fingers out again.

You almost cried, your body and mind aching with frustration. A teasing grin on his face, he sat back on his heels.

"You did fantastic, kærasta," he pressed a gentle kiss on your mound, making you jerk involuntarily.

Adjusting between your spread legs, he pulled his pants down and off to free his dick. Your eyes, lashes thick with tears, wander down and you gasped, not expecting the sight in front of you. He was big, girthy, and hard, his pink pierced tip dripping precum in excitement. You could see the metal barbells running along his underside and couldn't help but drool at the thought of him inside you.

With a smirk on his face, he grabbed you by the hips, and flipped you over onto your stomach, as if it was nothing. You yelped, surprised by the sudden change in posture. Grabbing your hips again, he pulled you towards him. Loki’s hands slid over to your lower back and gently but determinedly pushed you down to lie with your breast flush against the mattress.

Your ass and hips were now raised into the air, his fingers tracing little circles into the skin along your back, making you shiver.

And then you felt it. The hard metal of his piercing, as his tip pressed against your entrance. He slid his cock back and forth over your slick folds, smearing his precum with your juices. You were so oversensitive from all the denial that when the piercing caught your clit you had to bite into the sheets not to cry out loud.

"Lo, please,” you sobbed and pleaded, tears springing to your eyes, so desperate to feel him inside of you.

"I know babe, I got ya–" he said breathily and you just had enough time to take a deep breath before he lowered his body, his tip pressing into you.

Your hands fisted the sheets, your mouth biting into the fabric, the feeling of the metal ring on the tip of his dick rubbing along that special spot being too much. And then the first barbell entered and you bit your lip until it drew blood.

The feeling of him stretching your aching walls had you almost instantly fall over the edge as a loud choked moan spilled from your mouth.

"Shit, babe, I'm gonna—" You squealed out but a sudden sharp pain on your butt cheek had you screaming and ripped you from your blissed-out stupor. Loki ran soothing circles over the reddening spot forming on your skin where his hand had just smacked you.

"Don't cum yet," he scowled and you huffed into the sheets, frustrated tears pricking at your eyes.

Then he pushed in further, groaning with every barbell of his Jacob's ladder disappearing into you. It was more than overwhelming. There was so much of him pressing inside of you and he just kept going in.

“Lo—” having been edged so many times, you were so sensitive, just struggling to last, holding your breath, trying to focus on anything else but the feeling of him inside you, his cock filling you to the brim.

But you couldn't.

Your fingers screwed at the bedsheet, your breath hitched in your lungs and all you felt was the burn, the burn of him stretching you so thoroughly.

"Fuck, so damn tight–," he shuddered, allowing your body a moment to adjust to the size of him inside you.

“You OK?” He asked, kissing you softly on your back.

You were only able to respond with a shaky nod of your head, your entire body trembling like a firework close to exploding.

"Ok doll, let's do this," he purred into your ear after he gave you a moment more. And with that he started moving at a frantic pace, making you cry out loud.

With the piercings rubbing all the right spots, being so overstimulated, and finally being able to let go, you felt yourself hurl towards the edge, all feelings focused on him ramming in and out of you.

It sent heat into your gut, made your toes curl, as a tingling feeling increased and spread throughout your body, the coil winding tighter in your core, growing, tensing with each of his movements.

With everything focused on his pierced cock driving in and out of you, causing delicious friction at just the right spots, you forgot about your surroundings.

You could barely process anything anymore, your mind too dumb with the white heat starting to burn your insides. You slowly felt your composure crumbling and struggled to hold back your orgasm.

His hips bucked into you at an unforgiving speed, making you bounce from the force, each rut pushing you closer to your high. You couldn't hold back anymore, the pleasure too intense, your mind whitening out. You were crying for real now, lashes thick with tears.

"That's it, gorgeous, cum for me," Loki groaned, breathless, close himself.

That's all it took for you to go spiraling, falling as the coil snapped, sending the first intense wave of pleasure through your body. Your walls clamped down on him, increasing the pressure, each thrust feeling better, more intense.

You buried your face into the soft bed sheets, moaning desperately as yet another orgasm hit you full force, wrecking your body and your mouth dropped open for a high-pitched cry.

Loki was starting to lose it as well, lazy eyes hazy with pleasure, his climax building with every feverish thrust of his behind you. You heard him groaning, swearing under his breath, diving into you while you kept coming around his dick.

With a final broken moan, his hips stuttered to a halt, and you felt him twitch inside you as he came, pumping you full of his seed, while he panted above you, his hair sticking to his face in sweaty strands.

Giving his hips a few more agonizingly slow thrusts, he pushed his cum around, making a sticky mess between you and his pelvic.

A few moments later, he slid out of you. You instantly collapsed onto the bed, not having him hold you up anymore, your combined juices seeping out between your puffy folds and dripping down, making a puddle on the sheets.

It was suddenly so quiet, only your quickened breaths filling the silence between you both. He laid down on his back next to you, looking at you, his hand on your back, drawing small circles with his fingers into your skin.

You turn your head to meet his gaze, your face all red, black mascara smeared across it and your eyes still teary.

A big grin spread across his face as he snarled, " You look fucked out,Y/n.

"Well, that's an understatement," you sputtered into the sheets, still too weak and worn out to move.

"Come here” laughed out loud, genuinely, and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close to him, ignoring your meager whines about having to move your sore limbs.

Nestling against his warm chest, you inhaled his masculine scent mingled with the smell of warm sex and fresh orgasm. It was delicious.

He kissed the crown of your head, humming in approval as you laid your hand on his stomach, tracing little circles into his soft,pale skin .

"So, what are we doing next? Going back?" You mumbled, rather sleepy.

"Nope ,I am not done with you yet .😈

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point Masterlist

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU, Loki)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[shadeysprings]

The Princess of Asgard

—Loki x F!Reader

Summary: Your supposed vacation on Asgard takes an unexpected turn.

Warnings: kidnapping, non-consensual arranged marriage, betrayal & violence.

A/N: Written for @lokisgoodgirl as they've been wanting some Dark!Loki recently. Ngl, I do miss writing him. Un-beta so may be meh.

Your feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support Content Creators! And I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

The tears continue streaming down your face as you stare at your reflection in the vast mirror hanging on the wall. The emerald gown you were forced to wear shimmers beautifully against the light of your chambers and you wish you could appreciate such a delicate garment, to bask at the regality being laid upon your feet. 

But you can’t, not even a shred of happiness can be found within, for such gifts have come with a price, one you know deep down you cannot pay.

You blame your naivety, for it’s what brought you into your situation in the first place. The excitement burst from you when Thor and his brother, Loki, invited you to see their home. The stories of Asgard have held a vice on you since you were young, mesmerized at how beautiful the images scholars painted of a place they’ve never seen before. And being given that opportunity, to witness what no one else on earth has, was too irresistible not to take.

“What are you wearing?” Loki asks upon seeing you when you open the door, his eyes trailing down your body before stopping at your face.

“Oh, am I underdressed?” You ask, looking down at the graphic tee and canvas shorts you put on that morning. “I just thought of dressing light since it’s summer here.” 

“Not at all, darling.” He smiles before ushering himself into your room along with a stout middle-aged woman with stacks of fabric nestled in her arms. “But I was thinking you would dress like an Asgardian during your stay here.” 

The woman, who Loki introduces as Thyra, lays the assortment of fabric on the foot of your bed, dresses of silk and satin, looking delicate to the touch. You look up at Loki, eyes wide in disbelief and awe. 

“Take your pick.” He instructs but nears the emerald dress all the same and runs his fingers against its skirts. “But I personally think you would look good in this.”

You scan the garments, the gold and beige sitting idly on the mattress, both in the same cut and style. Only the emerald dress stands out from the bunch, looking regal and elegant. But regardless of his suggestion, your eyes still land on the beige, hand reaching over to caress the silk before taking it. 

“But this would look more in season, don’t you think?” You tell him, a smile playing on your lips. He smiles back but you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Though after that morning, the dresses presented to you were all of the same color, emerald fabrics dancing against the lights of your room, leaving you no choice but to wear the green thrust upon you. 

Your first week on Asgard was spent touring the palace and the outer grounds, Loki always at your side, arm intertwined with yours as he introduced you to his friends, along with the other lords and ladies in Thor’s court. A feast was even thrown in your honor, and even if you found the extravagant event fun and entertaining, the way you were regarded by royals and commoners alike threw you off guard. 

But it didn’t stop there. Even after the feast, people bowed at your wake and called you princess, the title off-putting considering you were not close to such status, a mere civilian and average citizen on earth. 

You thought they were doing so to show respect to the king and the prince’s visitor, but that one-morning exchange with Thyra, when she entered your room without your permission and started laying out a dress on the top of your bed, told you otherwise. 

“It’s unheard of in all the realms for a princess to dress herself.” Thyra says in disbelief when you try to dismiss her. “I would not want the prince to scold me for not doing my work accordingly.”

“Oh—but I’m not a princess.” You tell her with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“Not yet.” She simply responds before bending low and turning to leave.

And that chance encounters with Lord Fandral as you walked through the corridors of the palace alone.

“Are you lost, princess?” He asks.

You don’t understand why you’re being addressed as such. Is it customary to give visitors of the royals such titles?

With your brain too muddled with errant thoughts, you choose to brush it off and ask Loki later why they are treating you as such, you give the golden lord a smile and ask him where you can find the kitchen. 

“I’d be happy to escort you, princess.” Lord Fandral says with a smile as he offers his hand for you to take.

As the days turn into weeks, the once magnificent palace felt all too suffocating; with Thyra’s constant insistence to serve you, the whispers you heard from the servants as you walked past them, and most of all, Loki’s indifference each time you asked him why you are being treated in such a weird way. 

Until that day, all the answers were finally laid at your feet.

“Darling, Thyra has told me that—what are you doing?”

You don’t spare Loki a glance, irritation filling your senses as you pack all your things. “I’m leaving. I thought visiting Asgard would be great but things here are just fucking weird.” You spit, shoving your clothes in your duffel but stopping when Loki places a hand over your bag.

“You will do no such thing.” He says and you scowl up at him, but your anger shifts into curiosity, and your spine shivers when you see the seriousness in his emerald eyes. “You’re not to leave Asgard until I say so.”

“Why?!” You push his hand away and try to grab your bag but he latches onto the strap, pulling it completely from your grasp, and throws it on the ground. “What the fuck?! You can’t keep me here, Loki! I’m telling Thor and you won’t be welcomed back to the compound!”

“Go on then. He’s in the throne room right now.” He says, moving away and gesturing to the door. But the tone of his voice, calm and resolute, has fear crawling up your skin.

Yet still, you push on and walk past him, marching yourself through the halls as you try to navigate your way. You sense Loki following behind, but give him no mind, though once you find yourself lost, his chuckle resounds in your ear and you stiffen when his hand rests at the small of your back and whispers, “Just through here, darling.” 

He leads you through a set of double doors and you look ahead to see Thor sitting on the throne, Mjolnir laying inanimate at his feet while addressing the people surrounding him. 

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, dismissing his subjects when you march up to him. But the friendly smile fades when you stomp up the steps, a frown playing on his lips. “My lady, you seem to be in distress.” 

“Hell yeah, I am.” You almost shout, pointing an accusing finger at Loki who stops at the foot of the steps. “Your brother is being an asshole. He said I can’t leave Asgard without his permission.”

Thor looks startled at your words, eyes shifting to his brother and then to you. “But why would you leave Asgard when you’re to be wed?”

You stiffen at the word. Wed? What does he mean? Your eyes dart to Loki who casually stands by the steps before climbing up toward you. He reaches for your hand but you quickly pull away, your eyes focused on him before looking at Thor who stands from his seat.  

“Have you not told her, brother?” Thor asks, but his eyes remain on you. 

“Told me what?!” You respond in a rush, panic rolling through your veins.

“I was supposed to while we ate breakfast but she banished her handmaiden and I caught her packing her things.”

Thor sighs but chuckles after. “Loki, you know midgardians are more unrefined in these situations than us.”

“I took your word into account, brother. Thought I would break it to her gen—”

“What the fuck are you both talking about?!” You shout, anger and fear mixing within you. “What the hell is happening?! What are you not telling me?!”

“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Thor asks his brother and Loki simply grins, giving a solemn bow to his brother. Thor faces you, blue eyes serious yet full of mirth. “You’ve accepted my brother’s gifts, have you not?”

“Gifts?”

“The dress.” He waves a hand in your direction and you look down at the green silk hanging from your shoulders. “You wear his colors, you’ve accepted his invitation to come home with him. Your chambers, adjacent to the prince’s, and a handmaiden for you to use as you please. Each one deserving of a princess.”

“But—” You stammer and shake your head. They can’t be gifts, you never even thought them to be; simply thinking that everything was part of Asgardian culture and you were not one to question their way of life. “I didn’t know they were gifts. I thought they—”

“I thought you were a smart girl but you’ve proved me wrong, little one.” Thor laughs and waves to his brother. “Enlighten her with the situation, we can’t have a scene played before the court on the day of the wedding.”

“But what if I decline?” Your voice trembles as you speak, body shaking as everything starts to make sense; why everyone calls you princess, Loki’s looming presence, and Thyra forcing you to wear the dresses instead of putting on the ones you brought with you. “I should get to decide, shouldn’t I?”

“But the decision has already been made,” Loki rebuts and you take a step back when he steps closer. “And it is seen as treason and punishable by death to go against the will of the royal family.”

You blink slowly, the air leaving your lungs as you try to process all the information that has just been said. You can’t get married, Loki may be handsome but you have no feelings for him. You feel betrayed, played with, and the pain feels too overwhelming as you saw the brothers to be your friends. 

Why would they trick you? What have you done to merit such devious intent?

“It will be easier once you’ve had some food in you, darling.” Your eyes meet Loki’s when he stands close to you, his hand wrapping around your arm, thumb gently caressing your skin. “And realize that being my wife would be the best thing that has ever happened to you.”

You don’t want to agree. What the hell do they know about what’s best for you and what’s not? But you don’t fight back, instead, you nod and allow Loki to take your hand, bowing your head to Thor before following his brother out of the vast throne room. 

But as soon as you pass by the doors, the guards closing them at your wake, you stomp down on Loki’s foot and clench your fists before thrusting it towards his neck, making the god stumble back while he chokes.

You don’t waste any more time and run as fast as you can, sprinting through the halls and staggering down the stairs. Several servants squeal in shock at your wake but you give them no mind, set on finding your way out of the palace and towards the bridge that you once crossed when you arrived. 

Several footsteps stomp behind you and you push further, urging yourself to run faster. You can hide in the forest once you leave the palace and plan from there. All you want now and all you can do is get away from Loki and his brother and hope that you can find someone to help you and take you back home. 

But you grunt when something solid catches your waist, your back pressing hard against a surface that you soon realize is someone’s chest. You try to pull away, clawing on the arm that restrains you to set yourself free, but you whimper when you feel the edge of a blade pressing against your neck, tilting your head back to avoid being cut. 

“I will not be insulted by your insolence, darling.” Loki drawls against your ear. “I have been very patient with you, I have been kind. You do not want to test these waters only to end up drowning.” 

“Please, Loki.” You cry and hiss when he breaks the skin, the metallic tang of your blood wafting in the air. “Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends.”

He chuckles and you let out a breath when the blade leaves your neck. But such reprieve is lost when his fingers wrap around your throat, his nose trailing down your temple and to your cheek then pressing a soft kiss against your skin. 

“Well, darling,” He breathes, feeling rather than seeing his grin. “You thought wrong.”

Quickly, you wipe your tears away when you hear the door of your room open. You keep still, hearing soft footsteps pad through the open room and into the bedchamber, your body going stiff when you see Loki’s reflection in the mirror and resting his hands on your shoulder. 

“I hope those are happy tears, darling.” He says as he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “Today is a joyous day and I expect nothing but.” 

You stay silent, unsure how to respond for you feel the opposite of happy. You’re trapped, kidnapped, into a foreign land, and betrayed by the people you’ve spent years who you trusted, and depended on to keep you safe. 

Your eyes then shift to the side when Loki holds up a necklace with an emerald crystal hanging by the chain. He takes the liberty of clasping the chain around your neck, whimpers leaving your lips when his hand grazes the tops of your breasts, his finger caressing the jewel that sits on your cleavage. 

“A beautiful present for my bride.” He whispers, the words stabbing your chest and you can’t help the tears from spilling once again. His brow furrows, turning you from the mirror to face him and you look down when he cups your cheek. “What’s the matter, darling? Do you not like it?” He asks. “I can get you another one, a bigger one if that’s what you want.”

“I want to go home.” You blurt out and cover your face as you sob against your palms. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

Loki then pinches your chin, making you wince and you drop your hands to your sides when he lifts your head and forces you to face him. A breath catches in your throat as you’re once more filled with fear, seeing his green eyes glow dangerously and the mischievous smirk forming on his lips. 

“But darling,” He breathes, “You are home.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

[luringfantasy]

Breaking Up with .. pt 1/? LOKI

The moment you say these words, the color drains from his face. How could you? After all these years, was it that easy for you? He wants to fix it, so he listens, urges you to tell him more about what is bothering you and why would you think to take such a step. For him it came out of nowhere, he was happy with you. But apparently you were not. How could he be so off about what you are feeling?

But then it clicks, you don’t know better, you are allowing your pretty little mind to think too much. You don’t know any better. He lets you speak to your heart's content and lets you leave. But as soon as you reach home, you feel his presence. You shriek as you see him, in his full armor, but he is too fast and too strong, you cannot outrun him.

Your pretty little mind was working overtime, Loki could not allow that. He took you to his palace. You were not capable of making your decisions. He would make them for you. He would keep you fucked out enough so that you brain stops giving you these stupid ideas. He would take care of you, whether you like it or not.

Hey guys this is a new series I am working on, I will be releasing posts with a new character. We will see how Thor would react to this in the next chapter. It is going to be on the darker side. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Who do we wanna see next?

TAGLIST: @lokixryss @alyeskathewave @ladymischief11 @tukes @yelkmelk @crimson25 @foxherder