#loki noncon

[starboyanomaly]

Anyway all I’m saying is had Bartleby turned human too at the same time as Loki, he would’ve nonconned his beloved boy into submission. Loki was always his to love and ruin. His to manipulate and hold and break. Bartleby loves Loki SO much. Infinitely and eternally.

[ishomieokay]

❝All the King's Horses❞ (Pt. I)

pairing: loki x thor

✰ summary - When Thor ascends the throne after Odin’s death, Loki knows his place as a subject. But Thor's devotion runs deeper than brotherhood. In the shadow of Asgard’s golden halls, can Loki resist the will of his King?

✰ tags//warnings: alternate universe, dark!thor, pseudo-incest, love confessions, dark magic, power imbalance, forced relationship, soul bond. Part II. AO3.

✰ a/n: I've been very vocal in the past about how much I do not like Thorki, so this feels kind of hypocritical. That said, it's mostly because people always write it as a cute, fluffy relationship and I just know... it wouldn't be like that. Adopted or not, this is incest and not healthy by definition. I wrote this story envisioning a dynamic that is very much abusive and non-consensual, so you've been warned.

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

The golden light of the throne room seemed harsher than usual. It gleamed off the polished walls and set Loki's dark hair aglow like a raven's wing. He stood at the edge of the dais, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture deceptively calm. Yet his heart betrayed him with its uneven rhythm, the treacherous thrum of unease.

Thor sat on the throne, a shadow of their father in his regal bearing, yet undeniably himself—proud, broad, unyielding. The weight of Mjölnir rested against the throne's arm, a symbol of his power, his right to rule.

Loki’s voice broke the heavy silence, smooth and unruffled as ever. “The All-Father would be proud, I’m sure.”

Thor smiled, the kind of smile that felt like a sunrise breaking across a battlefield or the warmth of a summer morning. “And what of you, brother? Are you proud?”

The word brother hung in the air like the toll of a distant bell—resonant, almost mournful. Loki shifted on his feet.

“I am but your humble subject now, Your Majesty,” he replied, his lips curling into something faintly sardonic, his emerald eyes flicking up to meet Thor’s. “It would not matter what I feel.”

Thor rose, his steps echoing through the hall as he descended the dais. Loki hated the way his pulse quickened at the sight of him, the way Thor’s sheer presence filled the room like a storm threatening to break.

“You matter,” Thor said, stopping mere inches from him. His voice was low, almost tender, yet there was a gravity in it that made Loki’s breath catch. “You always matter to me.”

Loki’s mask slipped for only a heartbeat, a flicker of unease cracking the surface. “How magnanimous of you,” he said, the sharpness in his tone a thin veil over his discomfort.

Thor reached out, brushing a hand against Loki’s arm. The gesture was fleeting, but it carried a weight that made Loki’s skin burn.

“I made it special,” Thor said, his voice almost a whisper, but it carried the power of a confession. “Just for you.”

Loki’s gaze darted to the golden goblet Thor held out to him. Intricate runes carved along its surface shimmered in the light. They weren’t just decorative—Loki recognized the bindrunes immediately. The pattern was unmistakable, ancient and sacred, the kind meant to signify love and devotion. He could feel their energy emanating from the cup, almost as if they whispered promises in a language too old to be spoken aloud.

He hesitated. “This…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “Is for me?” 

“For you,” Thor confirmed, his voice steady, his eyes earnest.

“Do you even understand what they mean?” Loki arched an eyebrow, an edge creeping into his voice.

Thor stepped closer, his towering frame now invading Loki’s personal space entirely. “Do you?”

Loki’s lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he did—better than Thor ever could. He’d studied these runes, felt their power, and knew what they represented. This was not a careless act. Thor had chosen these deliberately.

“This is not something you can offer lightly,” Loki said, his voice darker now, wary. “Runes like these... they bind, Thor. They demand truth, fidelity.”

Thor tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. “Do you believe I do anything lightly when it comes to you?”

Loki’s chest tightened. He wanted to laugh, to deflect, to cut Thor down with some biting retort, but his tongue felt heavy.

“You assume too much,” Loki managed at last, his voice brittle.

“And you assume too little,” Thor countered, holding the goblet closer to him. “Take it.”

The command in his voice was subtle but undeniable. When Loki didn’t immediately obey, Thor added, “Drink, Loki. I had it made not for a subject, not for a servant, but for you. As you are. No masks, no schemes. Just you.”

Loki’s hands trembled as he reached for the goblet. His fingers brushed Thor’s, and the warmth of his skin sent a shiver up his spine. The runes seemed to pulse with life, as though they were aware of Loki’s hesitation, aware of his turmoil. He stared into the liquid within, its surface reflecting the light of the hall and distorting his own image. 

Thor’s voice broke through his thoughts, soft but insistent. “You bowed to me, during my coronation. Pledged allegiance to me. If you spoke the truth, then, what have you to fear? The runes will not bind you to me, anymore than your vows already have.” 

Loki’s gaze flicked upward, meeting Thor’s. It was a lie, of course. Were the circumstances different, he would be impressed. He’d never known of his brother’s talent for manipulation. With this one gesture, Thor was asking for a different kind of devotion, not the type a subject had for his king, and they both knew it. 

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the air between them heavy with tension, with unspoken words, with the weight of choices yet to be made. He had no say in the matter, truly. He never had. Finally, Loki lifted the goblet to his lips, the cool metal brushing against his skin as the runes hummed with approval.

The goblet’s contents were warm as they slid down Loki’s throat, rich and heady, unlike any mead he’d tasted before. The runes carved into the gold seemed to pulse as if in recognition, their soft glow intensifying for a moment before fading back into the intricate design. Loki’s chest tightened as a strange sensation rippled through him—not pain, but a warmth that coiled like a serpent around his ribs, its grip tightening with every breath.

He lowered the goblet, his fingers trembling. The room suddenly felt suffocating, the air too thick to draw in properly. Loki’s first instinct was to lash out, to cast the goblet away and spit some venomous remark at Thor. Yet he couldn’t move.

Thor was watching him closely, his blue eyes sharp and assessing, like a hunter waiting for his prey to react to the snare.

“What have you done?” Loki finally rasped, his voice strained.

These were not mere love runes. Underneath, there was something else.

Thor stepped closer, his expression unreadable, though his tone was soft—almost soothing. “Only what was necessary.”

Loki staggered back a step, but Thor caught his arm, his grip firm, unyielding.

“Let go of me,” Loki hissed, though there was no power behind the words.

“I can’t,” Thor said simply, his voice steady as a mountain. “Not now. Not ever.”

The weight of Thor’s words crashed down on Loki like a hammer. The warmth spreading through his body wasn’t fading—it was growing, binding itself to him. His magic, always a steady hum at the edge of his awareness, faltered and twisted. He felt... tethered, as though an invisible chain now linked him to Thor.

“What is this?” Loki demanded, panic creeping into his voice despite himself. “What have you done to me?”

“The runes… they bind us, Loki. You cannot lie to me now, nor act against me.” Thor’s gaze softened, but there was no regret in it. “Worry not, brother. You are safe with me.”

Safe. The word rang hollow in Loki’s ears. He wrenched his arm free, but the effort left him trembling.

“Safe?” he spat, his voice rising. “You dare speak of safety while binding me like a prisoner?”

Thor’s expression hardened. “No one but me can keep you safe, Loki. From others, and from yourself.”

Who will save me from you, though? Loki thought, but he did not say it aloud. His tongue, as sharp as ever, felt leaden now, weighed down by the binding magic. He turned away, his mind racing. This was worse than a cage—it was a collar, one forged with ancient magic that no blade or spell could sever. And Thor… Thor was holding the chain.

“Why have you done this?” Loki said, his voice quieter now, the defiance in it diminished but not extinguished. “I would not have betrayed you. I would not have .”

“So you say,” Thor replied. He stepped closer again, his presence enveloping, suffocating. “Your trickery is well known across the Realms, Loki. It’s become clear to me that you cannot be trusted. My hand was forced. It was either this, or exile.”

Loki wanted to laugh, to sneer, to fight, but every part of him screamed that it would be futile. Thor wasn’t simply his King now—he was his keeper. And Loki, for all his cleverness, had no idea how to free himself from this prison.

He turned to meet Thor’s gaze, his green eyes blazing with a mixture of hatred and anguish. “I am not yours to keep.”

“Perhaps not. But I am your King.” Thor smiled faintly, tilting his head. “You will learn to accept this, with time.”

[loganpine]

Shoutout to 2018 Logan for fitting a Star Wars reference into a dark, disgusting, incestuous fdom non-con Marvel fanfic.

Very classy, bro.

Like I'm writing The Boys TV show or some shit 💀💀

[valena-nedela]

Given the incident with the horse this seems like a very Loki sort of thing to happen.

A porn parody of that one norse mythology story where Loki gambles his own head in a bet with a bunch of dwarves and loses, and when the dwarves are about to cut his head off to claim their prize, Loki reminds them that he bet his head, not his neck, so even if his head is their property that they can use as they please, they can't unattach it from his body.

And instead of sewing his mouth shut, the dwarves... Nay, I shan't say it. But yes, the whole gang.

[olddirtybadfic]

Invasion: A Sims 2 Darkfic (Part One of Three)

I also used to (and still do) write Sims 2 fic. I have a whole other account about that (trying to keep everything organized; let's see how long that lasts), but I'm not quite ready to link it to this one.

Anyway, teen!me couldn't restrict herself to exploring dark topics through one fandom, so this exists.

Content Warning: Violence; rape/noncon; character assassination of Buzz Grunt (seriously? you made him a rapist, teen!me? i know there's not really set canon in the Sims 2 but even considering that, it seems a bit out of character); depiction of the Beaker household as not being a den of unethical experimentation (c'mon at least one of them did some shit—judging from how they autonomously behave in my game, it's usually Circe); Loki and Nervous are apparently adoptive brothers in this; slut-shaming and other not-nice behavior from Buzz (in addition to the raping); rape written from the point-of-view of the rapist (teen!me was really working through some issues)

-O-o-O-o-O-

Buzz Grunt stomped through the dark streets of Strangetown, grey eyes barely seeing the storefronts ahead of him. The few streetlights provided a steady supply of shadowed alleys in which the whack-jobs could hide, but boolprop help the Sim that crossed him tonight.

He’d wanted the truth behind Lyla’s departure and he got it, all right. He’d gotten the truth about Lyla, the truth about their relationship, and the truth about Loki Beaker all in one fell swoop, and he didn’t like one word of it.

“How dare she leave me in search of him? After I took her in, gave her everything she could possibly need, this is how she repays me?” Buzz clenched his fists. “That bitch deserved to end up in Olive’s graveyard.”

As for Loki… “That little man-whore…I knew he couldn’t have stopped creaming his pants over her so soon. Circe’s not that much of a prize. Hell, she’s a bigger bitch than he is. She’ll probably end up cheating on him, and he’d run crying like the pussy he is, and Lyla would’ve been there to wipe his mascara away.”

Never mind the fact that Loki was never happier than when he was with Circe, and vice versa. However, Buzz was not one to think rationally in a fit of drunken rage.

“When I see that son of a bitch, he’ll wish he was never even conceived.”

Buzz rounded the corner into an alleyway and ran into a man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt. “Watch where you’re going!” Buzz shouted, shoving the man backwards.

“I was, until you ran me down. Fucking drunkard.” The hooded man snarled, shoving back. His hood fell, mid-shove, revealing a blond head. “I’d recognize that blond mop anywhere,” Buzz thought, his eyebrows clenching.

As the man straightened up, Buzz was met by Loki’s piercing blue glare.

“You…” Buzz growled.

“Wasn’t beating the crap out of me in high school enough? Must you absolutely run me over in the streets as well?” Loki crinkled his hooked nose in disgust. “My gods, you reek of alcohol.”

This earned him a whack across the face that sent him stumbling towards a wall. “You deserved every injury I gave you, you little shit,” Buzz snarled, “especially now that I know about your little fling with my Lyla.”

“What fling? We dated for a semester in high school, long before you got your paws on her,” Loki spat back. He gave a slight snicker. “You know, I really can’t figure out what she ever saw in you. And I suppose if we hadn’t broken up, she never would have.”

Before he could draw another breath, Loki found himself slammed against the brick wall of the Strangetown drugstore. “I’m not stupid, Beaker. I know you couldn’t have given up on her that easily. You just pretended to break it off with her, didn’t you? Then you prodded her to marry me and then leave me.” Buzz tightened his grip on Loki’s shirt.

“That is ridiculous, Buzz. Why would I care enough to do all that?”

“Don’t you even try that; I know how your sick little mind works. You wanted revenge for all those times I showed you I was stronger, more of a man than you.”

“Buzz, seriously, how fucked up do you think I am? How pathetic would I have to be to give a flying shit about your marriage? And how pathetic do you have to be to think I even still care about those fights?” Loki’s even tone set Buzz’s nerves afire.

“You should, because they’re about to happen again.” With that, Buzz threw himself at Loki, who dodged out of the way, and ended up on the ground. Buzz rose partway and came at him again, receiving a kick in the shoulder, then another to the stomach. Buzz writhed upwards, catching Loki by the leg. Loki was dragged to the ground in seconds. A few more traded punches and Buzz had both Loki’s wrists in one hand.

Loki tried to slide backwards out of Buzz’s grip and realized he was up against a brick wall.

Buzz chuckled joylessly as he gripped Loki’s hands over his head. “You always were a weakling, Beaker.”

“What the hell is this? Can’t you act civilized for once?” Loki grumbled, struggling to free his hands.

“Can’t you stop asking such stupid questions? I’ll act civilized when you deserve it, you scum.” He relished at the sight of Loki thrashing under him, the feel of his wrists firmly in his grasp. Buzz felt around in his pocket—yes, it was still there. He pulled out the rope he’d packed earlier and tied Loki’s hands to the pipe fixed to the wall.

Loki found he couldn’t move his arms as far. He tilted his head back, his eyes following his arms upward to the knot encircling his wrists. He snapped his vision to Buzz.

Buzz was vaguely aware that Loki had stopped thrashing and swearing. The sudden silence prompted him to look down and catch Loki’s horrified expression.

Buzz took in the sight. Loki had turned completely white and his eyes were permeated with shock and terror. Tiny beads of sweat could be perceived on his aquiline brows. He’d never seen Loki show much emotion regarding him outside of anger and contempt.

He quite liked this new power over Loki’s emotions.

Loki, however, did not. He wrenched his arms around, straining his bonds, but alas, never breaking them.

“Tying knots isn’t just for Boy Scouts,” Buzz commented unzipping his pants.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re about to do, but I’m not gonna be a part of it.” Loki swung his leg upwards to knock Buzz across the head. The airborne extremity was promptly caught and pinned down.

“I don’t know why you even bother trying to fight back anymore, Beaker.” Buzz planted his knee on Loki’s leg. “What was that saying you used to rub in my face in front of Lyla?” Buzz pondered aloud, roughly tightening the ropes and creating a nice little rope burn. “Of course—‘those who don’t learn their history are doomed to repeat it.’ Well, tonight, you’re going to see why I’m the better man, and maybe you’ll get it through your thick skull this time.”

Loki tried to knee Buzz in the crotch, then realized that both his legs were pinned down under Buzz’s knees. He leaned forward to bite Buzz, who merely had to lean slightly backwards to avoid him.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” Buzz continued. “I have the upper hand, the advantage in this battle. You never stood a chance against me. It’d be better if you just surrendered.”

Buzz felt Loki go wooden. “That’ll only make it worse on you,” he cautioned, clicking his teeth. He slid Loki’s pants and underwear down. “Well, whaddya know. The carpets do match the drapes.”

At this point, Loki could only watch in horror.

“And they’re trimmed. Isn’t that just precious.” Buzz reached into his own underwear.

The alley was quiet, save for Buzz’s grunts and the occasional whimper from Loki. Buzz had figured this would be a silent job; Loki didn’t scream during their other fights and he didn’t scream now. It was slightly more difficult, as he’d tied Loki up in a sitting position, but tying him any other way would have left him open to a backwards kick. And the more it hurt Loki, the better to teach him a lesson.

Buzz paused to take a breath and gazed upon Loki’s tightly shut eyes. “Yeah, that’s right. Take it like a man—like the man you aren’t and never will be,” Buzz hissed into his ear.

Loki opened his eyes to glare at Buzz, teeth clenched.

Buzz returned to thrusting. He unexpectedly climaxed, sagging against the wall. As he leaned back, he saw that Loki had turned his head as far as he could away from Buzz’s direction.

“Look at me,” Buzz commanded.

Loki refused.

“Look at me, Goddamn it!” Buzz roared. Loki sharply turned his head to face Buzz. The glare and scowl were fully intact, rendering Loki’s features positively demonic. The blue slits of eyes glistened.

“Crying. And here I thought—wrongly, obviously—you could take it like a man.” Buzz slapped Loki across the face, spilling the droplets across the wall. He then pulled up their underwear and pants. Loki raised a leg to kick Buzz again, but a whack across the face put an end to that course of action. Finally, he yanked apart the knot that bound Loki’s wrists.

He grabbed Loki up by a handful of shirt. “I am stronger than you. I have always been stronger than you. I will always be stronger than you. You will never forget this after what I’ve done.” He flung Loki back to the ground. “Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Loki fled. Buzz zipped up his own pants, unaware of the glint of reflected light from the roof of a building in the distance.

-O-o-O-

Circe sat in the kitchen, drumming her fingers on the table. Nervous sat at the other end, checking the stove, to make sure the food on top of it didn’t burn.

“He’s late,” Circe remarked curtly, glancing at her watch. “He never takes this long coming home from the lab. I knew I should’ve stopped by after my shift to pick him up. Who knows how long it’ll take to get his car fixed?”

Nervous fidgeted with the bottom of his T-shirt. Circe was clearly in a bad mood; Loki was late to dinner again. That meant he might be too tired to talk to her or he’d go straight to the lab in their basement.

That meant that he’d have to listen to her ranting about how all she and Loki did nowadays was work. He could understand how one could get easily annoyed—he didn’t like seeing less of his adoptive brother, either—but to go on about it over and over seemed somewhat pointless. They knew Loki didn’t like seeing them so little, but he couldn’t help it. After Circe was transferred to the other lab, their shifts, for a while, had been set up in such a way that Loki was just getting home in time to see Circe off to work. The schedules had recently changed so at least they worked similar hours, but it still wasn’t very much time.

Nervous saw Loki come in and immediately knew something was wrong. Loki walked right past Nervous, who was standing right in front of the door, without a single word. His eyes were glazed over and his face was set in a mask of impassivity. However, Nervous didn’t think it would be best to address it.

Seeing this, Circe ran after him. “Where have you been? Nervous was afraid you’d gotten stabbed on the walk home. Couldn’t you have at least called to say you’d be home late?” She followed him into their bedroom. “Don’t you want to eat first? You completely missed dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.” Loki’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper as he continued towards the bathroom. Circe could see his hands and knees slightly trembling and found out why when Loki knelt and began to vomit into the toilet.

“What happened? Did you get another mysterious disease at lab? They’ve been going around in the neurology department and since you come in contact with the neurologists, you might’ve gotten it from one of them.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that smell….Loki, have you been drinking?”

Loki huddled, still trembling, over the toilet. He refused to look at Circe.

“Loki, answer me! Have you been drinking?” Circe demanded.

“No,” Loki managed, “but Buzz certainly has.”

Circe knelt down next to him. “Buzz?” She made a motion to put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away violently. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Did you two get in a fight again?”

Loki glared at Circe with liquid blue eyes. “No, it was not a fight, Circe. Nothing about that was a fight. That was a fucking invasion.”

Circe’s face darkened. “What did he do to you?”

Loki dragged himself up. “He raped me, all right?” He stomped off into the bedroom. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

Circe stared. “WHAT?”

Loki huddled behind the dresser and fidgeted in silence, which Circe was only too eager to fill.

“Well…We need to report this. He can’t go unpunished; I don’t care if he is the General. We need to get you to a hospital—keep those same clothes on and don’t take a shower—we need to go to the police, and—”

“No.”

Circe’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean, ‘no’? Last time I checked, rape is a crime. If you don’t press charges, we at least need to take you to a doctor and get some kind of test—”

Loki shook his head. “I can’t let them. They don’t like me in that department. You know what they’ll say about all this.”

“Then I’ll check you up myself, so they won’t have to know.” Circe tried to grab Loki’s arm.

“Don’t, Circe. Just don’t!” Loki shouted.

Circe paid him no mind. She tried again; he slipped away. She kept trying to grab him, he kept avoiding her. Finally she grabbed him by the wrists and had him facing her. Loki stared into her eyes with a look of absolute horror on his face.

It was then that Circe realized what she’d been doing.

“Oh, gods….This is how Buzz went after you, isn’t it? Oh my gods….He’s really screwed you up….I’m sorry, Loki. I didn’t mean to force you.”

Loki collapsed against Circe, his face against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and he didn’t resist, just clung to her as if he were a small child and she were his mother.

“What has he done to you, Loki?”

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: The Sims 2 might not have set canon, but there are still ways to strain your readers' willing suspension of disbelief.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Good Behaviour 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: after release, you try to get on the right track but your new boss isn't much help. (ex-con reader)

Characters: Loki

Note: :)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your sweat dampens the folder in your hands. You shift in the chair and wiggle one foot, a leg hooked over the other to keep you from jittering all over. You look up and down the hall. Men in suits and women in dresses and skirts strut by now and again, silent as they're preoccupied with their business. Just as you are with the task before you.

You don't remember being this uneasy before... well... you take a breath and steady yourself. You uncross your legs and set your feet flat. You stare at the gold plaque mounted on the door. You used the cheap Polaroid phone to confirm your arrival as noted in the email. You press the cell to the folder, gripping both tightly. You've faced worse than a man in a designer tie.

The door opens and you flinch. You stand up as a man emerges. You recognise him from the website where you found the job posting. You offer your hand. He ignores it and says your name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you reply, checking the door plaque to be sure.

"Let's not waste any more time," he waves you inside.

You nod and step past him. You grit your teeth as you enter the office. It's small and the windows brighten the space from behind plain white curtains. There's not much to the small space; an empty desk, a short filing cabinet, and a chair. There's only one other door.

"In there, please," he directs with a point over your shoulder.

He shuts the door behind him with a snap. You wince again and keep going. You enter the dimly lit office. Only the vintage table lamp gives light to the space next to a fancy monitor, unlike the boxy ones you're used to.

He sidles past you as you stop short. He goes around the desk and drags his hand down his tie. He sits and gestures to the chair across from him. You admire the sleek pen in its gold holder and paper weight in layered jade.

"Um, oh," you come forward in your rubber-soled flats, "I have a copy of my resume. And cover letter."

"I've both," he assures as he wiggles his mouse beneath his long fingers. It's one of those smooth white ones where you can't even see the buttons.

You watch him as you wet your dry lips. He's a tall man, slender but not gawkily so, and his dark hair is long but well-kempt, tucked back behind his ears. His cheekbones are sharp, his nose aquiline, and his eyes are a bold green, giving colour to an otherwise pale face.

"I've got quite a bit here," he intones as you hug the fold, the phone slipping into your lap. "Hm, rather much..." his eyes scan the screen. He's not looked at you since he came out to get you but you don't even know that he did then.

"Sir," your eyes drift guiltily. You already know what's going on.

"Armed robbery," he slithers. "Five years."

You nod and swallow, "sir, I-- that was-- I'm out now."

"Hm, so you are," he lifts his chin.

"Mr. Laufeyson, I spent my time in prison learning. I took several courses in administration, including personal and corporate accounting--"

"Yes, I'm certain you are eager to see the numbers," he turns and his eyes meet yours. His accusation stings.

"I'm... not into that anymore. I made a mistake--"

"With a gun. And fellow mistake-makers," he insists.

You deflate and blink as your eyes fall to the front of his desk. You swallow. "You're right, sir. It was more than a mistake. A crime. Which I served time for. I'm so thankful no one was hurt but I am aware that it was dangerous and unfair to everyone involved."

"Well, you certainly are eloquent," he muses.

You scrunch up your mouth. If you were the girl that was sentenced in cuffs, you'd tell him to shove it up his ass. That girl is gone, that fire extinguished. The outside is so different now. It's like another prison where you can't do anything without permission.

"Thank you, I guess." You stand. "Thank you for your time."

"I didn't say we were done."

"You didn't, sir, but, respectfully, I don't have the time to waste. I have to report to my parole officer and find some more interviews." You sigh, "I need a job and if this isn't it, then I'd hate to waste both our time."

He snickers, "and when did I say you didn't get it?"

You lift your eyes, "you didn't..."

"Please, sit. I suppose you did come all the way here. You are... behaving. So, let us proceed at least with a few real questions," he sits back, and elbow on the armrest as he twiddles his fingers. "Not to twist the knife but you mentioned parole. Would that interfere with fulltime hours?"

"No, sir, I only need to submit the schedule," you say as you sit back down.

"Mm, sir. You took some etiquette class in prison?" He wonders.

"Not formally," you reply.

He snorts, "right then. I did review your credentials. You'll be providing mostly admin support, not much accountancy, you see that is my role. I am certified in the matter and my clients are rather important. I can't have a convict at the bank roll."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"Mm, well," he leans his chin in his hand and taps his fingers thoughtfully. He sits up and rolls closer to the desk. "I rather abhor these interviews. I suppose we all deserve second chances."

Your lashes flick in surprise, "are you offering my the job?"

"I am," he affirms.

You push your shoulders up and can't help but smile, "I promise, you won't regret this."

"Yes, I hope not," he drones. "Go on, I've work to do. Not least of all, drawing up your employment contract."

"Sir," you stand and juggle the folder and your phone. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. There is a probationary period. I expect you on time and professional." He sniffs, "oh, and dressed to office standards."

You look down at your borrowed clothes. The blouse is plain beige, the pants heavy wool, and the shoes a bit clunky. You thought it was okay.

"My clients expect a certain level of class."

"Yes, sir."

"I will provide an advance for this purpose. I understand you might not be in a position to afford it as yet," he looks back to his screen, "it will be in the contract."

He doesn't glance at you again. You take that as a dismissal. You thank him once more and spin on your heel.

As you get to the next office, you exhale in relief. You don't know what Dina would say if you came back with another rejection. If you don't meet parole terms, you could end up right back where you started.

💼

The email comes and dispels the last of your disbelief. It's real. You have a job. It might not be the best. The work and the pay isn't what worries you, rather your boss. He reminds you of a warden himself. You were hoping to be done with those.

Dina congratulates you but not without a stern warning. Don't mess it up. She looks over the contract with you, commenting positively on the advance. She suggests that some employers are sympathetic to people like you.

You take the money and head out to buy work clothes. You're uncertain at first. You don't think the thrift shop or Walmart fits the bill. He sure wrote a big check. After cashing the check, you bring up google maps and wait at the bus stop.

As another person comes to the shelter, you move away from it. Now that you're out, you get claustrophobic a lot easier, yet dizzy at how open everything is. You're still getting used to this all. Especially the idea that you're only responsible for yourself.

You hop on when the bus rolls up and transfer to the next. You get off and find yourself before a boutique. A woman struts out and you shy away. You see your reflection in the window and sigh.

Mr. Laufeyson didn't hire you to look like those women. You just have to get some nice clothes. You enter and give a sheepish smile as a woman perks up behind the counter. Reticence shades her expression, then disapproval. She stomps out in her heels.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Uh, sure, yeah," you look down at your feet and back at her again. Prison was easy compared to this. You could steel yourself against the guards, even Millie when she tried to steal your brownie, but this makes you feel small. "I just got a job and I need some clothes. I could really use some help."

Honesty seems the best tactic. It was the lack of which got you into all of this. That and your own bad decisions. Your selfishness. If that gun hadn't jammed.

"Work? Well, that's nice. A new job," her eyes flutter, her voice brittle. "I suppose we have what you're looking for. What kind of work?"

"Admin," you answer and clutch the strap of your satchel. "It's uptown, so..."

"Ah, I see. Executive Assistant?"

"Not quite," you answer. "I'm not... I'm not really... into fashion."

For five years, you wore a uniform. All these wraps and frills and slits are confusing. She guides you toward the wall where a rack of blouses hangs in white to just slightly beige. You look at her, she looks good, her clothes are stylish, you'll have to trust her on this.

"So, what kind of admin?" She asks.

"Accounting," you answer.

"Mm, stuffy," she chuckles. "Well, let's see. White. Always need a white blouse. A black pair of pants, and a skirt too, then you can build from there." She pauses and glances at you, "we don't have sales in here."

You don't take it personally.

"I have money," you assure her and take out your debit card.

"Hm, well, these are very expensive pieces. You might find a department store at the mall?"

"I came all the way here," you counter, bristling. If this was inside, you wouldn't back down, so you won't now. "I need clothes, you sell clothes."

"Alright, sure, hun," she grins sardonically

"Thanks, hun," you shoot back.

She turns and selects a grey satin skirt. It's pretty enough. You cross your arms as annoyance ticks in your cheek. You try to remember the exercises they gave you in the release program. Count and breathe. It's not worth it to get mad.

"If you see anything, feel free to let me know," she trills.

"Is there anything, I don't know, some patterns?" You ask.

"Ah, I didn't see you in polka dots," she intones.

"This is nice," you touch the brown plaid blazer.

"Oh, very... chic," she comments dryly. You're not liking her attitude. Heat gathers under your collar as you trail her. "Are we trying these on?"

"You don't think I'll pop the tags off and run for it?" You snip. "I'll just pay."

"Exchange only."

"Whatever," you huff.

You go to the counter and tap your card on top. She comes up behind it and gently folds each piece. Three blouses, the blazer, two skirts, and two pants. It will do. 

"I hate to ask anything else of you but do you know where I can get a nice bag?" You take the debit machine and insert your card.

"Oh, sure, there's the shop across the street. Make sure to leave your bags at the front."

You shake your head and put away your card. You accept the two shopping bags and receipt. You thank her despite her attitude. If she only knew what that would get her inside. You almost want to give it to her.

Calm. Be calm. You're not her anymore. You're changing. Beating up a shop clerk won't help you keep this job.

You leave and cross the street. You get much the same reaction as before. You pick out a brown leather bag with a gold emblem and two pairs of heels you think you can handle. You leave, defeated but not without your prize.

You walk back to the stop and sit on the bench. You stare off into traffic as you wait. You'll have to get used to it. You sort of are. Lots of inmates stared you down and you learned not to show any fear. Not if you wanted to survive.

[fandomfics]

I loved your Logan x plus size reader and I was wondering if you could write a Loki x plus size reader

Hell yes!

You Hung The Moon

Pairing: Loki x Fem plus size reader

Description: You befriend Prince Loki of Asgard, but when he claims to want you as more than just a friend, you don't believe him.

Masterlist

Wc: 7k

⚠️Warnings⚠️

MDNI 18+

Fluff, angst, complicated relationship, past trauma lightly mentioned, implied noncon(not from Loki), partner abuse, betrayal, smut (oral f&m receiving, face riding/face fucking, unprotected p in v, sub/dom dynamics, light spanking, edging, cockwarming) not proofed.

. . .

Being a servant in the palace of Asgard has its perks, but it also has its downsides. You don't resemble many of the others, often being looked over for more public facing roles. You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you from time to time, but the lack of attention also meant you had a little more freedom day to day.

Your younger self had fought many hard won battles over the appearance of your plush body. You could never share clothing with friends, or feel comfortable in your skin. The standards of beauty that Asgardians sought was far from your natural state, but over time you came to love yourself wholly. It became a way to see who truly enjoyed being around you for more than just your looks.

You spent much of your free time in the library or in the gardens tucked away in corners with a book in hand, diving into other worlds feverishly. Your insatiable thirst for a good story often kept you plastered to whatever spot you had chosen for far longer than you intended. One evening while you lay in the far side of the garden with a captivating new tome, you hear a noise that pulls your attention away from the story.

Your head pops up past the bushes and you see Prince Loki. A surprised squeak unleashes itself without your permission and his gaze immediately finds yours.

"Pardon my intrusion. I didn't realize that someone was out here. I'll leave you be." He turns to walk away but something in you yearns to call out to him, so you do.

"You don't have to go, I was just reading. You're welcome to stay." A smile graces your lips as you find a new seat at the fountain in the middle of the garden. The moonlight frames his features in an ethereal glow, you've always found him to be very handsome, but in this moment he's absolutely breathtaking.

"What brings a woman such as yourself out to the gardens this late?" He inquires as he takes a place a few feet from you.

"I get lost in my books. Lose track of time." You smile wistfully at him.

"I suppose there are much worse things to get lost in." A charming smile lights up his features.

You hum in response and look up to the vast night sky. From the corner of your eye you see that he continues to look at you for just a moment before looking up. Heat rises in your cheeks before you stutter out the next words. "I-I should be going, my lord. Enjoy the gardens."

He nods his head and his smile fades lightly as you leave.

. . .

"Well, I must say, it's a pleasant surprise seeing you again." A few days after your meeting in the gardens Loki finds you in the Library. You look up to see that he's carrying a stack of novels himself, "May I?" He gestures to the empty chair across from you.

"Of course, my lord."

"Just Loki is fine."

"Of course, my- Loki."

"I'm yours?" He says with a cheeky smile.

"No- I-I'm sorry, I -" Heat rises up your neck in embarrassment.

"Relax, dove." He chuckles, "I'm only joking. Unless that's what you want." He winks at you.

You bury your face in your book to hide away the crippling anxiety of your embarrassment. The mischievous Prince is known well for his flirtations, something you've seen from him time and again with practically anything that breathes.

As the time passes you relax again into the silence. You're fully immersed in the book in your hands, unable to put it down. When you've finally finished the last page you close the book in stunned silence, mouth slightly agape as you try and process what you’ve just read.

"I wasn't too keen on the ending of that one myself." Loki snaps you from your thoughts, looking at you over the pages of the book he's reading.

"Please tell me the next one has a better ending."

"Only marginally I'm afraid." He picks a book from his pile and passes it to you, "This one is absolutely wonderful."

"Thank you."

. . .

The next several months are much the same. Loki happens across you often when you are reading in your off hours. Sometimes you sit quietly and read, other times you talk about the books you've both read and the conversation morphs to other subjects. Eventually the pair of you decide on a more permanent schedule, meeting twice weekly. The friendship that blooms is one you come to rely on, confiding in one another often, engaging in stimulating conversations, generally enjoying each other's company.

. . .

"Can I show you something?" He breaks the silence in the garden one evening as you lay amongst the flowers reading.

"Yes, I suppose." You sit up eyeing him curiously.

"It's nothing nefarious, I assure you my lady." He raises his hands in surrender, "Come."

He takes your hand, helping you up, never letting go as he leads you to his chambers. Your face is hot and your stomach flutters, you're so focused on what you're feeling that you fail to hear him. He stops and turns to you expectantly awaiting a response.

"Hmm?" you meet his eyes.

"I asked if you trust me."

You nod, afraid words will fail to find you, before he turns back and opens the door of his chambers. One side of the room houses a massive cylindrical structure that shoots up into the ceiling, with an opening on the side revealing a platform.

He guides you onto it steadily before speaking, "Hold on." he says before snapping his fingers. You shoot straight upwards, grabbing onto him for stability as the platform ascends, only realizing you've done so once his hands hold you to him steadily.

Your eyes meet his and he offers a tender smile, "I've got you."

You return a shy smile just as the platform slows to a halt with a slight jerk. You break away when you see that you're at the top of one of the palace spires, impossibly high above the rest of Asgard. The small area is made comfortable by a large pile of pillows atop a floor pillow large enough to be considered a bed, a table beside it houses all manner of fruits and cheeses with drinks, all underneath a flowing organza canopy.

You gasp looking back to Loki, "This is lovely!"

"I'm delighted you think so, it's all for you."

Without a thought you turn back to him and wrap him in a tight hug, "Thank you, you're a wonderful friend." You kiss his cheek before trying to part. His grip on you remains firm as you lean back. Your faces inches apart as he speaks.

"What if I don't want to be friends?" A look of confusion crosses your face but he continues, "What if I want more than that?"

You feel the heat creeping up your neck again at his words. It takes you a moment to find your voice but when you do, you speak without thinking.

"You don't, I'm sure." You pull away again, this time he allows you to move away. "Come, let's enjoy this!"

You turn back to the comfortable set up and rush to it, before falling into the pillows. He joins you after a moment, laying close and searching your eyes.

"But I do." His whisper is almost inaudible, but you still hear it. You meet his gaze to find it searching yours before reaching up a hand to cup your face. You lean into him, craving the closeness. Your heart wants it to be true, but your mind says otherwise. Doubts swirl about and you close your eyes trying to will them away. Then you feel it. His lips are on yours, pressed deep as if to try and envelope your very being. Your eyes shoot open in surprise and you push away, leaving him laying there as you rush back to the platform.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't." You mutter. Once your feet are on the platform he snaps his fingers to allow it to take you back down. You refuse to look at his face, unsure of what you'll find there.

. . .

The following day when you return to your chambers for the evening you find a note on your bed.

"I deeply apologize for my behavior, I should have asked before kissing you. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I don't want to lose your friendship.

-Loki"

You fall into bed and allow sleep to take you, you have no desire to think about the situation at the moment or the other thoughts it brings, you just want rest.

You don't want to think of the misplaced trust you had in other people that had told you they were interested in you only to leave once they got what they wanted, or the ones that took advantage of you when you couldn't fend for yourself, or the people you loved that left you without a second thought. You don't want to find yourself there again. You don’t want to think about the unnamed feeling you have when in the presence of your dear friend.

You avoid him for a week before returning to your usual meeting places. It's another week before you see him again while in the library, he approaches sheepishly with hands behind his back. When you smile up at him he holds out a small delicate bouquet.

"Forgive me?" You nod and take the flowers. He lets out a sigh of relief before continuing. "May I join you?"

. . .

Your head and your heart fight, feelings and logic dancing in and around you like a kaleidoscope hell bent on making you dizzy as the colors swirl. You catch Loki's lingering glances from time to time, further fueling your inner turmoil, still you remain steadfast in your quest to push it aside and enjoy the one thing you know you can rely on, his friendship.

Days turn to weeks, weeks to months. In this time a new servant called Bo has been added to the roster. He's quite a tall burly man, his short brunette hair a stark contrast to his well kept beard. An instant connection is formed when you are asked to show him around the palace. His kind demeanor and the easy flow of the conversation as you walk sparks something in you.

“Would you perhaps like to join me for a stroll in the garden this evening?” You ask boldly after you finish the tour.

“I would very much like that, my lady.” he bows to you and you part with a wide smile,exhilarated by your newfound confidence.

Time seems to slow to an agonizing pace as nervous anticipation builds in your body, the remainder of your day takes an eternity. Your mind is in a clouded frenzy while you wait, but when you finally come face to face with him, it all melts away. You lead him to the garden, the soft glow of the full moon casts long shadows in the foliage that sways in the gentle breeze. You sit at the fountain and talk for hours, all manner of topics pass between the two of you, and you feel like you've already got a strong grasp on the type of man he is.

"You're absolutely stunning." He suddenly blurts out, blush rising in his cheeks.

"Thank you." You smile shyly as your face warms.

His hand rests on top of yours with a nearly imperceptible hitch in your breath before he continues, "I would very much like to kiss you. May I?"

You're entirely unsure what comes over you, but you nod. You've never been so quick to dive into something like this, but the urge overwhelms you, like you'll cease to exist if you don't press your lips to his.

He leans in and captures your face between his large hands before brushing his lips to yours. You melt into him as it goes from tender to full of lust. In your frenzied state you lift the skirts of your dress and straddle him as you continue exploring his mouth with your tongue.

The sound of a door closing breaks you apart and you see Loki, mouth agape before he stutters out, "I apologize." He rushes back into the palace without another word.

As Bo pulls you back into the kiss you briefly wonder if you should follow after your friend. The thought immediately leaves your mind as The man beneath you lets a small moan slip into your mouth as his hands start to wander your body. Your hips move of their own accord, craving the sweet relief the friction could bring you.

Your head tilts back as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping along the way pulling a low whine from you.

“Can we take this somewhere more private?” You manage to gasp out.

Without warning he stands, easily carrying you back inside, “Of course.”

. . .

“We should keep this between us for now.” Bo says as he readies himself the morning after your encounter, ‘Maybe we can keep meeting in the evenings?”

“Hmm,” You agree, thinking of Loki, “I think that’s a good idea.”

In a whirlwind you find yourself spending more time with Bo while the frequency of your meetings with Loki fall to once a month. You feel as though you’ve successfully pushed aside the conflict of your relationship with Loki in the midst of the budding relationship.

“You’ve been awfully busy as of late.” Loki states plainly, eyes still on the book in his hands.

“Yes, my duties have been expanded,” you manage to stumble through the lie, “and I find myself very tired in the evenings.”

“Oh, I thought it might have had something to do with the man I caught you with a few months ago… since that’s when it started.” His words are pointed as he looks directly into your eyes.

“I-I don’t-”

“It’s alright darling, I understand. As long as you’re happy.” He gives a small smile, “I just hope we can remain as we are.”

. . .

“What is this?” You blurt out one evening as you lay with Bo in your chambers. Your head rests on his chest as your fingers trace over his hairy chest.

“Hmm?” His eyes closed as he replies sleepily.

“What is this?” You probe. “Our relationship?”

“This is us enjoying each other's company.”

“I want more.” You say firmly. “We don't need to keep hiding.”

“Can we talk about this another time, I'm too tired for this.” He turns over and closes his eyes.

You drift in and out of consciousness, half asleep as you navigate the short bit of telling conversation you had with Bo.

As per usual, he's gone when you wake and you feel a pang of loneliness settle in your gut.

You're so desperately attached to the man that you can no longer stand the secrecy and uncertainty of the predicament you find yourself inextricably linked into.

After a particularly trying day you settle in the servants dining area nursing a bowl of stew, lost in thought. From the corner of your eye you see Bo enter the room with a beautiful woman, your heart sinks when you look up and see them deep in conversation. You suddenly feel sick when you see soft smiles and gentle touches between the two, and without thinking you rise from your seat.

Your feet quickly carry you as your mind spins out of control, you're unable to grasp a single thought until you stand in front of them.

“Bo, darling, will you still be spending the evening with me?”

The woman looks to Bo confused before he replies, “I don't know what you're talking about.” His eyes clearly denote the need for you to remain secretive about your nights with him.

“Well, last night you said you would, but you were gone before I woke this morning. I wasn't sure.”

The womans face contorts to disgust before she marches away in a huff, and Bo follows after her.

You return to your chamber and lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of nothing. After a time your door opens and Bo enters quickly, you're unable to keep the scowl forming on your face as you stand to confront him.

“What was that?” His scowl matches yours.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“We discussed keeping this private,” He surges forward and grabs you by both arms tightly, “you think it was okay to say those things in front of others?”

“I just want to know what this is, I-”

“This is nothing. You are nothing but a toy for me to use as I please.”

“Bo, I'm sorry, please don't say that. I-”

“Silence.” He interrupts you before he turns you around and bends you over, forcing your face down into the bed and lifting the skirts of your dress as you sob.

. . .

“Loki,” you whisper as you knock on his chamber doors, tears streaming down your face after your encounter with Bo. The door opens and Loki smiles briefly before seeing the state you're in.

“What's happened to you dearest?” The concern in his tone is nearly palpable as he looks at the bruises over your face and arms. “Who did this?” His eyes darken.

You're unable to answer when he pulls you in and you collapse into his arms. He guides you to the bed and sits you down gently, taking your hands and kneeling in front of you.

“Was this the man you've been seeing?” You nod in response. “What is his name?”

“Bo.” You whisper, barely audible.

“I need to go take care of this.” He stands determined to leave, anger burning hot in his eyes, but you keep a firm grasp on his hand.

“Please, don't leave.”

“You should rest, you may take my bed for the night, I'll sleep in the lounge area.“

You nod, you don't have the strength to protest, and you're sure he would insist anyway. You make yourself comfortable, surrounded by his scent, and stare deeply at the ornate embroidery of the bedding. You don't realize you've drifted off until you're awoken much later in the evening.

You look up to see Loki coming through the door, his face and clothing are wet with blood, the seething anger still apparent on his face. He quietly approaches the basin of water on the other side of the room and cleans himself thoroughly, a snap of his fingers reveals fresh sleep attire and he settles on one of the seats by the roaring fireplace.

He is clearly in deep thoughts as he watches the flames dance in front of him, but he still hears your approach.

“You should be resting.” His eyes are still on the fire.

“What happened?”

He turns to you, eyes softening before he speaks, “You won't see him again.”

You don't know how to feel, your mind races with the idea of what could have happened. Your eyes convey the frantic nature of your innermost thoughts and he sees the struggle.

“He'll live, unfortunately. He has been banished from Asgard for the remainder of his life.” His eyes return to the fire.

“Thank you Loki.”

. . .

Rumors of Bo’s sudden departure from the palace swirl endlessly. The majority are all based in truth, several other servants were witness to Loki’s outburst against him when they heard his screams from the corridor, Bo’s frightened and bloody form cowering in a corner as Loki verbally tore him to shreds for his treatment of the fairer sex.

You were eternally grateful to him for his comforting presence and quick action. You felt lighter, and entirely unhindered by thoughts of Bo as you spent more time with Lok againi.

. . .

“Loki,” you smile up at him from your spot at the garden fountain, “I-I want to thank you.”

“For what?” His brows furrow.

“Being such a wonderful friend.”

He smiles at you as he places a hand on yours, “Of course.”

“You are the only person that hasn't gotten close just to use me to get something they want. Like Bo…like all the others before.” Your head hangs down.

He tilts your chin up, the look in his eyes fierce and determined, “You never deserved anything of the sort. You deserve only the best, you deserve everything you want, and more.”

Tears come to your eyes and you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder you burrow into him. His arms envelop you in their warmth and you feel truly happy in this moment.

“Did you know that I met my greatest friend in this garden a year ago?” He says as he rests his head atop yours.

. . .

"Come to my chambers this evening, I have something for you." Loki says when he sees you in a corridor one day.

"Another book I suppose?"

"It's one I went to midgard for." He whispers with a wink to you.

. . .

On your leisurely stroll to Loki's Chambers you hear something, from a slightly ajar door flows a conversation you can't help but listen in on.

"I don't know why Loki spends so much time with her of all people." The voice is that of Thor. "He's been moping around and complaining incessantly about her."

"Hmm. Well, he does keep other company my lord. Not just hers." Another voice replies.

"I'm sure he's got some underhanded scheme at play, using her to get something he wants, as per usual. Poor girl, won't know what's hit her until it's too late I'm afraid."

"I'm sure she's just another in a long line of heartbreak curated by the god of mischief himself."

You don't let it deter you until you approach his chamber. A woman fleeing as she fixes her garments, her hair is disheveled, tears stream down her face, and you hear a sob echo through the otherwise quiet corridor. Without another thought you turn on your heel and return the way you came.

"Wait!" You hear him call after you.

"I'm not interested in your games, my Lord." You spit, emphasizing the formality.

"What games?" He shouts out as he tries to catch up to you.

"I'm not a plaything for you to use, only to be thrown away when you've had your fun. As I'm sure I just witnessed with that young woman." Your insides twist as you think about the last night you saw Bo, reminded of yourself running through the corridor in tears. Was he just like him?

"I would never do such a thing, least of all to you. That's not what that was! She was upset that I wouldn't be with her."

"I won't be fooled again, my lord."

"Has our friendship not shown you otherwise? My intentions are pure, I assure you. I-I was going to -"

"Please, leave me be."

"If that is what you wish." Loki sighs, dejected, before turning back to his chambers.

A flurry of emotions flow through you, the pain of loss, the relief of feeling that you avoided further unnecessary pain, and something else you can't quite place. When he's out of earshot you break down, slowly walking to your chambers. You think maybe it's best to not develop friendships, clearly they only end in pain.

. . .

Over the next several weeks you mourn the loss of the one true friendship you thought you had developed. You keep to your chambers, opting to read and reread what you have there. When you've exhausted your selection of books, unable to stand the thought of reading the same ones yet again, you make your way to the library.

The smell of the old books is calming, something you've missed. You wander the isles until you find a new book before returning to the chair you always occupy here. Resting on the seat is a book titled "Grimm's Fairy Tales." You pick up the heavy book before sitting, resting your chosen book on the arm as you look over the one you've never seen in the library before.

You are sucked in by the short stories, eyes glued to the pages until you notice something strange. About a quarter of the way through the book you see single words, letters, and punctuations circled, pages apart. You immediately begin to write them down as you find them:

"You hung the moon and the stars that shine in my favor.

Your heart, your mind, your very essence is a striking beauty that leaves me weak in your presence.

I have cherished every moment we spent together.

I love you.

-Loki"

Your breath hitches as you read the note over and over. You have tried desperately to push down everything you've been feeling, but at this moment all you want to do is run to him. You wonder if it was actually meant for you, your doubt increases as you try to free your mind from the pain bubbling up to the surface again. He has a type, and it's not you, you decide. Still you take the book, unsure why you feel you need it.

. . .

Announcing the marriage of Loki Odinson and Astrid Andersdottir.

You're unable to read the rest of the parchment as your mind reels. It's been months since you've seen Loki, managing to stay behind the scenes in order to process everything properly. This however sent a twinge of pain through you. Maybe this was the last thing you needed to witness in order to fully get past everything that occurred since it all began. You needed closure.

. . .

The date approaches quickly, nerves settle in your stomach as you sneak into the great hall where their ceremony is to take place. The seats are full, the chatter of hundreds of people hush as music begins to play. Loki strolls in and ascends the steps from a side door, joining his father atop the large platform at the head of the room. His features hang heavy with disinterest as the bride walks down the long isle between the guests.

She is truly beautiful, a sight to behold in her long flowing green gown. You feel something wet on your cheek and you reach up to touch it, realizing that you're crying. Your stomach twists in knots as you witness her approach. You don't know what you want, but it isn't this feeling.

The music stops and he reluctantly joins hands with his bride to be as his father speaks. Minutes pass at a snail's pace as Odin continues his oration, lulling you into a deep boredom, leaving you with nothing to keep your thoughts from spiraling. You move behind another pillar as quietly as possible, when you emerge just enough to see the proceedings Loki's eyes lock onto yours. Shock warps his features as he stands there, until he is addressed by Odin.

"Is there anything you wish to say, Loki?" He questions, expecting a prepared speech about how this marriage will be a bridge between two kingdoms. His son's next words Leave him speechless at the altar.

"I can't do this." It's a whisper at first, "I can't do this." His tone is more firm as he drops the woman's hands and storms right to you, ignoring the gasps and chatter from the crowd. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you through a door that leads out of the hall and into the servants corridor until he finds an unoccupied room that he pulls you both into. With the snap of his fingers the door disappears, his intent clearly to keep Odin from finding him for the time being. When the door is gone he cages you against the wall.

He's never physically hurt you, you don't feel threatened, but you know that whatever happens next will take a toll emotionally.

"Why are you here?" His voice is weak and his eyes search yours. Everything about him in the moment denotes pure anguish.

"I-I don't know." You say looking down, "I thought it might help me."

"Help you what?" His eyes plead.

"Get over everything that happened between us."

He turns away and stays silent for a time, his head buried in his hand. You pluck up the courage to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him, through everything you still didn't want to see him in pain.

"Please, you are nothing but torture to my soul. I agreed to this marriage so I could be shipped off to another kingdom and not have to be reminded of you every time I turn a corner in this cursed place. The moment I laid eyes on you I was done for, you haunt my dreams nightly." Tears stream down his face as he continues, "Please release me from this torment, I am in agony." He falls to his knees, grasping desperately at your hands as his eyes meet yours.

"What would you have me do Loki? Be another drop in the bucket of your indiscretions? Be left heartbroken by a prince who routinely uses others to get what he wants?" Your voice cracks as you look at the broken god before you.

"No. Please just let me go if you don't want me. I can promise you that I am not what others make me out to be, but you've made up your mind. I just need peace. Please."

"What about the woman I saw sobbing as she fled your chambers?"

"Thor convinced her that I was interested in her, but you were all I wanted."

"I heard him. Thor. Speaking of how you were complaining about me, moping around."

"It wasn't about you. I was feeling sorry for myself, knowing that you could never feel what I feel."

"I-" you're interrupted by Thor's thunderous voice in the hall.

"I know you're in there brother." In the same second Loki turns and pulls you away from the wall, shielding your body with his and the wall explodes inward, sending dust and rubble everywhere.

"I have worked too hard to arrange YOUR marriage." He growls pointing to Loki, "for you to come in and ruin it." He turns to you.

"Leave her out of this." Loki turns, keeping himself between you and Thor.

"No, she's the reason we're in this mess." He huffs.

"What do you mean?" Loki raises his hands and the rubble lifts in the air, when his hands snap together it all piles around Thor, leaving him immobile. He then snaps his fingers, causing his brother to talk until the truth is out entirely.

"I was to wed Astrid. I convinced father to arrange it with you instead under the guise of becoming a leader in another land rather than having her living here." He gasps for breath before continuing, "I then had a love spell cast on her when Bo came along, arranged for her to overhear a conversation about you that would sow doubt in her mind as she was on her way to catch you in the act with another woman. Even though you rejected her it still worked in my favor. I needed you to want to leave." He pants, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Truth spell, brother." His gaze seared into Thor's. "Father!" Loki calls out, sure Odin would be present at a moments notice. When he arrives he forces the truth from Thor once more to face Odin's wrath. He releases yourself and Loki with the promise of Thor owning up to his deceitful plans to the other kingdom.

Loki takes you by the hand and leads you to the garden. Away from prying eyes, away from the noise.

He speaks as he stands in front of a statue of a long passed warrior, "I understand if you still want nothing to-" you don't let him finish his sentence before grasping him in a tight hug. You rest your head on his chest as tears spill, unable to speak or control your weeping.

His arms wrap around you, a firm comforting grip that allows you to melt into him. His head rests on yours as he allows you both time to process. You're unsure how much time has passed when you finally pull away and look up into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see it earlier, I-"

"This isn't your fault." His hand cups your cheek and his eyes focus on yours.

"Not Thor..." You struggle to come up with the words to describe what you're feeling.

“Take your time darling.”

You take a beat and close your eyes to find the words you’re looking for, "I was foolish. I didn’t trust you, I allowed baseless rumors to come between us and destroy what we had. You didn’t deserve that, and I don’t deserve your love.” You hang your head.

“You deserve the world.” He tilts your chin up to look into your eyes.

“Forgive me?”

“Of course.” His smile is gentle.

“There's something else.”

“Yes?” His brow furrows.

“I want to thank you for the book of fairytales.”

“Oh, of course.” He hesitates before continuing in a whisper, “What was your favorite part?”

"It was a four sentence story hidden amongst the others… I can recite it for you.” your eyes search his and he nods for you to continue, “You hung the moon and the stars that shine in my favor. Your heart, your mind, your very essence is a striking beauty that leaves me weak in your presence. I have cherished every moment we spent together. I love you.” You cup his face in your hands, “I love you too.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

. . .

🔥

Two years later…

The soft morning light streams into your chambers, slowly fanning across the bed, waking you gently. You turn to find your still sleeping husband resting peacefully. You admire him momentarily before cuddling up to him and resting your head on his chest.

“Mmm, good morning my love.” he turns into you and wraps his arms around your plush figure pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and presses a soft kiss to the skin there.

“Good morning Loki.” You hum happily as you feel his hardened cock between you, “I think there’s something coming between us at the moment.”

“Not quite yet, but I absolutely aim to fix that.”

He continues kissing along your neck as his hands fall to your ass and squeeze. “You, my darling, are so very intoxicating.” he growls lowly in your ear, “your skin is soft, delicate.” His fingers lightly run up along your spine causing you to shiver.

“Your curves are so luscious,” He guides you onto your back and slots himself between your legs, his head moving down from your neck to your chest as he peppers you with kisses. He takes your nipple into his mouth while his hands run over your sides, gripping onto your love handles reverently. His mouth moves lower to worship your plump stomach, lavishing it with feather light kisses that send anticipation through you, pooling at your core.

“Your sweet nectar tastes divine.” He lays between your legs and licks a long stripe up your already slick slit with a moan that rumbles through his chest. You writhe beneath him as he fully buries his face into your needy cunt. You buck up and he wraps his arms around your thick thighs to hold you in place. He parts from you momentarily, “I’m going to feast, dearest. Would you like that?” You nod emphatically, “No, no pet. You know better.” He says with a stinging slap to your thigh.

“Yes, my lord.” you yelp.

“Mmm, Much better. Good girl. First thing’s first,” He moves to your side and lays on his back, “Sit.” You sit up and swing your leg over his lap. “No, here.” He points to his face.

“My lord, I-”

“Now.” He slaps your ass again. “And face my cock.”

You obey and sit with your knees touching his shoulders, “I’m going to enjoy my first meal of the day, in quiet, and to ensure that it remains as such, you are going to keep my cock warm in your mouth for the duration.” With that he pulls your cunt down flush with his face and immediately starts working you yet again. Your breath hitches and you lean down, enveloping as much of his cock in your mouth as you can to keep from making a noise. His mouth is suctioned around your clit as he moans into you, causing you to clinch around nothing. His tongue presses firm circles around the bundle of nerves, bringing you right to the edge of explosive pleasure before stopping.

You whine around his cock audibly, his hand comes down hard on your ass.

“Mmm, I think I've had my fill for now.” He flips you over and changes positions to lay next to you lavishing your nipples with attention again as a hand dips between your thighs. You let out a small yelp when two fingers slide into your slick channel, your back arches and you bury your hands in his hair.

When the pads of his fingertips languidly caress your sweet spot you roll your hips to elicit any additional friction. Loki bites down on your nipple as a warning to lay there and take what he gives you and you whine.

“Please my lord, I need more.” Your eyes screw shut.

He releases your nipple, “you'll take what you're given.”

You groan in submission just before he picks up speed. Suddenly his fingers are pistoning into you hard, your slick causing obscene noises to echo through the room. A loud moan is ripped from your throat as he brings you to the precipice of release once more. Your walls start to squeeze around him, a sure sign you're nearly there and he halts his movements once more.

He removes his fingers and admires the wet shine before taking them into his mouth. He hums in delight, “You've been quite whiney today, pet. You know what that means.”

You reluctantly stand on your knees as Loki sits up and rests against the headboard of the bed. You slot one leg between his and straddle his strong thighs before lowering yourself completely. His hand comes down on your ass again and your drag yourself back and forth chasing the friction you were so desperate for before.

“I wanted you to make me cum.” You pout at him.

“Good girls who stay quiet get what they want. You're left with one option, ride my leg until you're shaking with pleasure like the filthy little thing you are.”

His words send a shock of longing through you and you push yourself harder. Your hands are on his chest, bracing yourself, as your head tilts back. With one hand Loki strokes his cock, the other switches between the flesh of your breast and your thigh. He can't keep his hands off of you, softly kneading each area with reverence, desperately trying to sink into you fully, to become a part of you.

Slowly the coil in your stomach begins to tighten, your panting breath quickens with the anticipation of your release and your nails claw at his chest. You hear him moan your name as you do and the coil snaps, sending you careening over the edge. Your hips stutter as you ride out your release, desperately trying to prolong the pleasure. When you've finished you collapse against his chest, trying to catch your breath.

You sit up and lay on the bed, head hanging over the edge, knowing the second part of the punishment in your little game.

“Mmm, good girl.” You shiver as he stands. He lines his cock up with your open and waiting mouth, slowly sliding in and out, adding more of his length with each thrust. A sigh of satisfaction leaves him as he finally fully sheaths himself in your throat. He looks down to see you gripping the sheets desperately trying to busy your hands.

“You may touch yourself.” You moan around his cock in relief as you press against your sensitive clit. He continues fucking your throat until your face is coated in drool and pre-cum, and you find yourself again on the edge of relief. He flips you over, ass up, face pressed into the sheets and thrusts into you hard. A nearly deranged moan is swallowed by the fabric you're buried in, each noise you make brings the sweet sting of his palm to your ass.

His movements become chaotic as he nears his release. His grip tightens on your hips as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his breath comes in ragged pants as he calls out to you. “Are you going to take everything, be good for me?”

“Yes my lord.” You mutter.

“Mmm, I can feel how close you are.” He reaches around and firmly circles your clit with his fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge with him. Suddenly it hits you and you writhe and moan beneath him, tightening around him as you feel his hot spend coat your walls. His grip is still tight as he firmly plants himself inside you until he's finished completely. You both fall onto the bed, laying there, fucked out smiles on your faces, admiring one another.

“Come, let's bathe before breakfast, my love.” He smiles sweetly before planting a kiss to the tip of your nose.

[ishomieokay]

❝All the King's Horses❞ (Pt. II)

pairing: loki x thor

✰ summary - When Thor ascends the throne after Odin’s death, Loki knows his place as a subject. But Thor's devotion runs deeper than brotherhood. In the shadow of Asgard’s golden halls, can Loki resist the will of his King?

✰ tags//warnings: alternate universe, dark!thor, pseudo-incest, dark magic, power imbalance, forced relationship, soul bond, noncon, loki whump. Part I. AO3.

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

The golden halls of Asgard blazed with light and laughter, the grandeur of Thor’s coronation feast on full display. Tables groaned under the weight of endless platters of food, goblets overflowed with the finest mead, and the air was thick with the hum of jubilant conversation and the clang of raised toasts.

Loki sat at the edge of it all, his chair placed just slightly apart from the throng of courtiers and warriors. It was a seat of honor, but it felt more like an island—a reminder that he did not belong among them.

Thor, resplendent in his ceremonial armor, was the center of attention. His laughter boomed above the din, his every gesture met with cheers and adulation. The golden crown on his head seemed almost redundant. Thor had always been their golden son, their chosen hero.

And Loki?

Loki, with his pale skin and dark eyes, with his sharp tongue and sharper mind, was the shadow to Thor’s sun.

He picked at the food on his plate, though he had no appetite. The richly spiced meat and delicate pastries might as well have been ash. Around him, the revelry swirled on, but Loki felt disconnected, as though he were watching it all from behind a veil.

This place had everything he needed, but nothing he wanted.

Asgard was beautiful—breathtaking, even—but its beauty was a cage, and tonight the bars felt especially unyielding.

His gaze drifted to Thor, who was speaking with a group of warriors, a goblet in one hand and a broad grin on his face. His presence dominated the room, larger than life, magnetic.

Loki knew what others saw when they looked at Thor. Strength, leadership, love.

Loki saw the truth.

He saw the man who had taken what he wanted without regard for the consequences. The man who had bound him with ancient magic, stripping him of his freedom under the guise of protection. The man who would summon him tonight, and whom Loki could not refuse.

A sick weight settled in his stomach as he thought of what awaited him. The mere thought of Thor’s touch made his skin crawl, but the runes would ensure his compliance. They always did.

“Loki.”

The voice startled him, and he turned to see Sif standing beside him, her brows knitted in concern.

“You look unwell,” she said, lowering her voice so it wouldn’t carry over the noise of the feast. 

Loki forced a thin smile. “I’m fine, Sif. Merely tired.”

Her frown deepened. “Perhaps you should rest. The coronation festivities will continue for days; no one will fault you for retiring early.”

He almost laughed at the irony. Retiring early wouldn’t save him from what was to come.

“I’ll consider it,” he said instead, his tone light, dismissive.

Sif hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded, her expression still tinged with worry. She left to rejoin the crowd, and Loki was alone again.

Alone, save for the knowledge that Thor’s eyes were on him.

He felt the weight of that gaze like a physical touch, and when he finally looked up, their eyes met. Thor’s smile faltered, his expression softening. It might have been concern—or something else. Loki did not care to examine it.

He turned away, his hands curling into fists beneath the table.

The hours dragged on, each moment a torment as Loki counted down to the inevitable. He tried to lose himself in the noise, the chatter, the endless flow of mead, but nothing could distract him from the tightening knot of dread in his chest.

When Thor finally stood and raised his goblet to the room, signaling the close of the feast, the hall erupted into cheers.

“To Asgard!” Thor proclaimed, his voice echoing off the gilded walls.

“To the All-King!” the crowd roared in response.

Thor’s gaze found Loki once more, and he inclined his head ever so slightly, a silent command that needed no words.

Loki rose slowly, his movements mechanical, and slipped from the hall. He could feel the eyes of the court on him as he went, but no one stopped him. He was, as always, of no interest to them. 

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

The corridors of the palace were quiet as Loki made his way to Thor’s chambers. His footsteps echoed against the marble floors, each one a reminder of the path he could not deviate from.

He reached the door and paused, his hand hovering over the gilded handle. For a brief, desperate moment, he considered turning and running, but the runes pulsed against his skin, a silent warning that his disobedience would not go unanswered.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Thor was waiting for him. He stood by the fire, his armor removed.

“You came,” Thor said, his voice low, warm.

Loki’s throat tightened, but he nodded. He had no choice, after all.

Thor crossed the room, closing the distance between them in a few strides. He cupped Loki’s face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm.

“Did you enjoy the feast?” Thor asked, as though they were nothing more than brothers sharing a quiet moment.

Loki couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Thor’s thumb brushed over Loki’s cheek, and he smiled, though there was something almost sad in the curve of his lips. “You’ll grow accustomed to this, I promise. To us.”

Loki wanted to scream, to push him away, to run. But the runes wouldn’t let him.

Instead, he stood there, silent and still, as Thor leaned down and kissed him.

*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓˚✧*･༓

The air in Thor’s chambers was stifling. Heavy drapes blocked out the light of Asgard’s ever-glowing skies, casting the room in dim shadows. The ornate bed, its silk sheets tangled and disheveled, felt like a throne of shame to Loki as he sat there, his knees drawn up to his chest. His bare skin prickled against the cool air, but it wasn’t the chill that made him tremble.

It was Thor.

Thor, who stood at the gilded mirror, fastening the clasps of his armor with steady hands. Thor, whose golden hair caught the faint light like a halo, whose broad shoulders filled the space, leaving no room for air, for thought, for escape.

Loki’s eyes traced the familiar lines of Thor’s form, but there was no admiration, no affection—only a hollow ache, a pit in his chest that felt as though it would swallow him whole. His fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, his knuckles pale.

When his mother told him he’d find his person one day, someone who would care for him and love him sincerely, Loki had imagined a companion who saw him for what he was, not what he pretended to be. Someone who would cherish his mind, his wit, the pieces of himself he kept hidden from the world.

He had never imagined someone like Thor.

Thor, who kissed him like he owned him. Thor, who touched him with a reverence that felt more like conquest. Thor, whose words of devotion were chains disguised as tenderness.

A soft clink of metal brought Loki back to the present. Thor was adjusting the belt at his waist, his reflection in the mirror impossibly calm, impossibly content.

“Why so quiet this morning?” Thor’s voice was warm, almost teasing. He glanced at Loki over his shoulder, his expression softening when their eyes met. “Still tired? I’ll try to go easier on you next time.”

The words sent a shiver of revulsion down Loki’s spine, but he said nothing. He couldn’t.

The runes wouldn’t allow it.

They coiled around his will like a serpent, tightening every time he thought to protest, to fight, to flee. The words he wanted to say— I hate you, I despise you, leave me alone —never reached his lips. Instead, he could only sit there, silent and still, as Thor crossed the room to stand before him.

Thor reached out, brushing a strand of dark hair from Loki’s face. His touch was gentle, almost affectionate, but it burned like fire against Loki’s skin.

“You look beautiful like this,” Thor murmured, his thumb tracing the line of Loki’s jaw. “At peace.”

Loki wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. Peace? There was no peace in this. No freedom. No choice. Only the binding magic that forced his body to bend, to submit, to endure.

Thor leaned down, pressing a kiss to Loki’s forehead. The gesture was tender, almost loving, and Loki hated it more than anything else.

“I’ll return later,” Thor said, his voice low. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Loki watched as Thor straightened, adjusting the last piece of his armor before turning to leave. His boots echoed against the marble floor, each step a reminder of the power he wielded, the power Loki had no hope of defying.

The door closed with a soft click, and silence fell over the room.

Loki remained frozen for a moment, his gaze fixed on the spot where Thor had stood. Then, slowly, he lowered his head into his hands, his breath shuddering as he tried to hold back the tide of emotion threatening to drown him.

He felt dirty. Used.

His magic, once a source of pride and strength, was now a useless charade, a cruel joke. The same power that had allowed him to deceive and outmaneuver his enemies had been turned against him, leaving him helpless and at the will of another.

He wanted to scream, to shatter every mirror and vase and trinket in the room, to claw at his skin until it no longer felt like his own. But the runes wouldn’t let him. They kept him bound, even now, whispering cruel words in the back of his mind.

You are his.

The thought made his stomach churn.

He stood, his legs unsteady, and crossed to the basin by the window. The water was cool against his hands as he splashed it over his face, trying to wash away the lingering traces of Thor’s touch. But no amount of scrubbing could cleanse the feeling of being claimed, possessed, trapped.

As he stared at his reflection in the water, Loki’s mind drifted back to the past, to a time when Thor’s touch had been different. Back then, it had been innocent—a hand on his shoulder, a brotherly embrace after a battle, a smile that promised protection without asking for anything in return.

When had it changed?

When had Thor’s love become something suffocating, cruel, unnatural?

Loki straightened, his hands gripping the edge of the basin as he forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn’t escape the runes, couldn’t escape Thor. But he wasn’t entirely powerless. There were cracks in even the strongest of chains. And Loki, if nothing else, was an expert at finding them.

For now, though, he would endure. 

[latent-thoughts]

Ravished by a God - Chapter 38

Summary: When a God decides to chase you, what do you do? You’re Tony Stark’s employee, living in the famed Stark Tower. One day, you get cornered by the notorious God of Mischief and have a very revealing experience about your own kinks. Hence begins your clandestine dance with Loki, who is all too keen to claim you as his and show you all the forbidden pleasures he has to offer.

However, your kinky dance with him is not the only concern you have. Something murky is brewing within SHIELD, and Tony Stark specifically wants you to find the root of it. What can a mere human do when caught between superheroes, gods and a deviant government? You’re about to find out.

[WARNING: This work contains NSFW explicit and taboo sexual themes like noncon/dubcon, BDSM, spanking, etc. It is strictly 18+. Reader discretion is advised. Consume your media wisely.]

Pairing: Loki/Reader

[READ ON AO3]

[thegreatgatslin]

𝐋𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐒…

@𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 (closes 24 h after this post is up)

psst… i heard there’s a hole-in-the-wall place that opened up recently! the drinks they serve might not be top tier, but they’ll definitely be of the intoxicating variety…

so what are you waiting for? order up!

𝟏) 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒/𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒 (pick ONE of each: no more, no less)

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔 {kinks/smutty tropes, pick ONE min/max}

༘⋆ long island iced tea {size} ༘⋆ jägermeister {sensory deprivation} ༘⋆ margarita {semi-public sex} ༘⋆ screwdriver {bondage} ༘⋆ aperol spritz {edging/orgasm denial} ༘⋆ cosmopolitan {overstimulation} ༘⋆ red wine {age difference (older!character only)} ༘⋆ mojito {photography/filming} ༘⋆ whiskey sour {cuckolding/sharing}  ༘⋆ martini {dacryphilia}

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔 {additional non-smut tropes, pick ONE min/max}

༘⋆ water {roommates} ༘⋆ sparkling water {opposites attract} ༘⋆ ginger ale {pro athlete x manager} ༘⋆ soda {brother's best friend} ༘⋆ beer {academic rivals}

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

༘⋆ hit me with everything you got! {rough sex} ༘⋆ go a little easy on me, wouldja? {soft sex} ༘⋆ something in between…

𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞:

rape/noncon, dubcon, incest/stepcest, vore, scat, piss, any life-threatening behaviour/kinks/fetishes. will add on to list as i see fit; non-negotiable.

𝟐) 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐘 (only m!character x afab!reader, will be aged up if applicable)

༘⋆ any bllk character except for:

aryu, tokimitsu (SORRY), gagamaru (does he even know what sex is), ego, don fuckass lorenzo, world five, niko, the nel coaches (haha julian loki go brrrr AGAIN), literally all of the u20 squad EXCEPT my wasian king oliver

༘⋆ any jjk character except for:

the women (im sorry), mahito, gojo (sorry), geto (SORRY), nanami (I AM SO SORRY), all the kyoto students, panda (does this even have to be said atp…)

༘⋆ any hq character except for:

nobuyuki, kenma, yamaguchi, tanaka, noya (sorry), asahi, konoha (does anyone even like this guy), kita (sorry 😓), aran, the coaches (sorry takeda and ukai fuckers)

note: if you picked the item whiskey sour {cuckolding/sharing}, do specify which two characters are accompanying you tonight. do tell me who’s paying for the drinks (established relationship/w reader) and who’s just along for the ride (the 'other' party)

𝟑) 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 follow this format and you're all good to go!

could i get a slightly milder margarita {kink + intensity} followed by a beer {add. prompt}? i'm drinking with kei tsukishima {character} tonight!

for whiskey sour {cuckolding/sharing}:

could i get a strong cosmopolitan {kink + intensity} along with a soda {add. prompt} to chase that? i'm drinking with rin {character 1}, who's paying, and isagi {character 2}, who's tagging along tonight!

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒:

༘⋆ asks sent on/off anon are both okay! ༘⋆ one request per person... anons i'm trusting you on this ༘⋆ minors should NOT be here, so if you've read this far, please leave (i literally beg of you)

sorry for the long read... anyway, just drop your order off in my askbox and you're all set! your order might come out in the form of headcanons, a drabble if you're lucky, and most likely, disorganised horny rambling. i'll do my best with it though!

© thegreatgatslin || ✦ M.LIST ✦

[lokileaf]

Rules

My requests are open! Waiting times can vary so please be patient! I retain the right to deny any request as I see fit.

I write smut but I will not write noncon, dubcon, or incest. As of right now, I only write x gn!Reader or x f!Reader. I strictly write for fictional characters.

Characters I write for include:

• Loki Laufeyson (MCU)

• Peter Parker (MCU)

• Adam Warlock (MCU)

• Steve Rogers (MCU)

• Bucky Barnes (MCU)

• Miguel O’Hara (Spiderverse)

• Kylo Ren/Ben Solo (Star Wars)

• Dean Winchester (SPN)

• Sam Winchester (SPN)

• Harry Potter (HP)

• Draco Malfoy (HP)

• Gally (TMR)

• Newt (TMR)

• Thomas (TMR)

• Minho (TMR)

• Cassius au Bellona (Red Rising)

Master list

Imagines/oneshots

*smut

Loki Laufeyson

It Will Come Back

Do I Wanna Know?

I Think You Know

Comfort

For a Mortal*

Another Time

Dating Headcanons*

Tradition*

Jotun Loki Dating Headcanons*

Palmetto Method

Playful Loki Dating Headcanons*

Dean Winchester

Back To Friends*

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

MCU Play toy Headcanons

18+ MDNI

A/N: This is my first time posting anything like this. I wrote this up a while ago and finally decided to post it. Please ignore any spelling errors!

-Y/N gets hired by Tony for the rest of the team as a way to de-stress after missions

-Y/N gets used by most of the Avengers on the daily, but is always happy to please.

-Y/N is a switch but most of the Avengers are doms

-Y/N loves when they're lounging around and then someone will come up and just start fucking them no matter where it is

-living room? Fucked. Kitchen? Fucked. Meeting room? Fucked. Meeting room during a meeting? Oh honey you're in for a good time.

-Y/N has their own room and bed, but tends to sleep on the floor of someone else's room because that's what good pets do

-Y/N will sometimes get to sleep with someone for the night, usually Wanda who is a soft Dom and likes being called Mommy. She loves holding her baby. To Wanda you're her baby not her pet and that makes you feel special

-Nat is into some darker stuff that you didn't realize you liked until she introduced you to them (knife play, noncon con, somnophilia, omorashi, branding, dacryphilia, breeding)

-Nat has a dick and you would never pick favorites, but hers is your favorite

-Steve likes regular sex, but is super rough and into hair pulling and choking

-Loki uses his magic to make you fall fast into sub space and big on degrading.

-Thor is the opposite and only ever praises you he loves calling you princess

-Bucky is rough with you, but praises the whole time on how well you're doing, calls you doll as his nickname for you

-Bruce refused to use you at first and it wasn't until after him and hulk were able to live harmoniously that he fucked you, “Oh look at you big boy. I don't know if you'll fit like this.” “I'll make it fit and you'll take it all.” You do.

-Tony, Rhodey, Scott, Clint and Sam all don't fuck you as they have their own things going on.

-You thought Kate would be gentle with you, but she ends up being pretty rough and talks you through everything, grounding you in the moment which overwhelms you with pleasure.

-Yelena, who you thought would be rough, is actually a sub, a little at that. Her childhood ripped away from her and now she just wants ‘Mommy’ which you have no problems giving her.

-Tasha feels really uncomfortable at first when Yelena and Kate join the Avengers since Yelena is her sister.

-You understand why, but you have to remind her it's still your job

-Yelena is huge on physical touch and requires it often. Skin to skin is best.

-speaking of love languages you try your best with everyone's love languages as you all get to know each of them

-Steve is words of affirmation and quality time. Always tell him how good he's doing and you guys go on “dates” having dinner or watching a movie or doing a puzzle

-Bruce is acts of service and quality time. This usually involves you being in the lab and helping him whenever he needs it.

-Thor is WoA, physical touch, and quality time. He likes taking you out and experiencing new things

-Natasha is WoA and acts of service. You always praise her while you're fucking, “oh your cock is amazing! It fits me perfectly!” Saying things like that sends Nat over the edge.

-Loki is mainly all about physical touch. When you two are out he always has a hand or an arm on you

-Wanda's is quality time and WoA. You two love watching sitcoms her favorites are the old ones and yours are the new ones like The Office and Big Bang Theory

There comes a point where you realize that you actually love each and every Avenger, and it worries you that they only see you as a toy, but it's the farthest thing for them mostly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Good Behaviour 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: after release, you try to get on the right track but your new boss isn’t much help. (ex-con reader)

Characters: Loki

Note: :)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Once you return with the tea, you’re shut out. You’re thankful for the moment of isolation. More and more you enjoy the time when you are alone. When there is no expectation. 

When you were locked up, you always had to be on, always had to be ready. Either a guard was coming to flip your cell or someone else was scoping out what little you. As your mind wands, you can’t help but trace along the scar which marked a fight over your coveted commissary cupcakes.  

You exhale and scroll down the document on filing expenses. You’ll need that for all those transactions at the cafe. An airy sort of disbelief clouds you as you try to focus. How things have changed. Now you can simply go buy a dessert and walk out unscathed. To think you survived like that for so long makes you feel even smaller in this fancy office. 

You have to break that mind set. You have to move on. You can prove everyone right. Not again. Your family, your teachers, your friends. Now, Mr. Laufeyson too. You will not back slide. 

When the door opens, you flinch and glance over. Pine exits first, trailed by your boss. The blond glances over and dips his chin slightly, “it was a pleasure meeting you.” He drawls as he approaches the door. He pauses to peek back at Laufeyson, “about time you got some help. I might actually get my books balanced on time this year.” 

“Very nice seeing you, Jonathan,” Laufeyson shoos him with his long fingers. “Perhaps if you didn’t insist on meandering.” 

Pine snorts, “good luck to you, darling.” He gives a two-fingered salute and lets himself out. You look at the laptop and highlight a paragraph to add to the image of your concentration. 

“Well, you sure do put on quite the front, as your ilk might phrase it,” Laufeyson says as the door clicks shut. He turns and sits on the edge of your desk. 

“Sir, I’m doing my job,” you assure him and look up from the screen. “Is there anything else I should be doing?” 

Your hand rests on the mouse. His eyes scour the desk and he clucks. You wince as suddenly he reaches for you. You form a fist with your other hand as he seizes your wrist. He squints down at the rigid line across the back. 

“This looks like quite the accident,” he muses. 

“Sir,” you tug gently. Your heart pounds behind your ribs. Before, if someone touched you without warning, you’d crack them in the jaw. This isn’t then. This isn’t prison. 

He hums and lets you go, “oh yes, I’m sure you have been through a rather turbulent time. This must all be very dull to you.” 

“It’s calm,” you assure him and rescind your hand, hiding it in your other. 

“And you surprisingly so,” he stands and tuts. You watch him stride around the office. “There is one other meeting today. I expect the same courtesy.” 

“Yes, sir,” you reply. 

He sniffs and spins on his heel. He marches through his office door and your frown. It’s as if he’s taunting you, even baiting you, into misbehaving. But why? Doesn’t he need help? Is that not why he hired you? 

You go back to your review, switching to the inbox as a new inquiry dings in. As you draft your response, a knock interrupts you typing. You clear your throat and stand up. You open the door and your voice clogs in your throat as you reveal a familiar face. 

“Dina,” you blink at your parole officer. 

“Hiya,” she smiles at you. Her blush-laden cheeks and fake lashes are deceiving, along with her rose-coloured jacket and skirt set. “Look at you, dearie, all proper.” 

She squeezes your shoulder and you hold back a growl. People are so touchy outside. Inside, they know better. 

“What are you...” you crane to see the clock on the wall. “I’m not late.” 

“Oh, I’m not here for you. Well, I am but I’m not,” she waves off your worry. “I’m here to chat with Mr. Laufeyson. I find it helpful to review parole conditions with employers.” 

“Uh, right. Yes. I’ll get him,” you back up and welcome her in. She giggles as she steps inside, her eyes flicking up and down. 

“So good to see you trying, dearie.” 

Her cheerful tone grinds on your nerves. She puts on this octave that tweaks in your ears. A mask over her true self. Before you came back with your letter of offer, she was threatening to put you back into gen-pop. 

You go to Laufeyson’s door and tap gently, “sir, your next meeting.” 

There’s a lull before he appears. You back up as he steps through and he slithers toward the pink balloon of a woman floating around. He extends his hand. “Diana, was it?” 

“Dina,” she faces him and her eyes round. “Oh, my, aren’t you a specimen,” she trills and shakes his hand. 

“Dina, apologies, thank you for coming. Might I offer you a refreshment? Coffee? Tea?” He says. You fight not to roll your eyes as you foresee another trip to the cafe. 

“Oh, no, it’s afternoon, no caffeine for me,” she insists. “But thank you, Mr. Laufeyson, you are a gentleman.” She releases his hand. “And so tall. Look at you.” She fans herself and you cringe as you stand trapped against the wall opposite your desk. 

“Shall we?” He angles as he gestures to his office. 

“Oh, happily,” she bounces forward. You watch without a word. Laufeyson turns to follow, his smile falling into a rather derisive expression as he eyes her ringlets. They are a bit young for someone her age. 

He shuts the door after him as she makes some comment about the decor. You shuffle back to your desk and sit. You’re a bit peeved. He could have warned you it was Dina. No, that would be too considerate. 

You roll your chair to the desk and run your finger over the space bar. It would be far more prudent to have a machine, or at least a kettle in office. Perhaps that could be a project for you. You could draw up an estimate of the cost against the price of the repetitive cafe purchases. The initiative might just break through the ice of Laufeyson’s ego. 

💼

There was a routine in prison. Meal times, bed time, it was all the same; it was everything in between that was unpredictable. Would you be sleeping in your bunk or in solitary? 

The days turned thoroughly dull. You're not mad about it. You like the slowly building sense of security. That peace only punctured by vivid dreams and noisy neighbours. 

It's pay day. Your first. You expect a chunk to be missing due to the advance but you've budgeted it all out. As you do your time; all according to boldly defined borders. 

You get out of work and go straight home. Dina checks in to make sure you're not out without reason and she's sure to do so frequently. She keeps asking about Mr. Laufeyson, likely to determine if you're doing well. You think you are. 

You take the early bus. That way you get there with time to spare. You sit on the bench outside the building to eat your overnight oats. You have an earbud in as you listen to a podcast about an old reality show they always put on in prison. You didn't really like it but it became a pasttime anyhow. 

As you swallow the pasty oats, you ponder whether you should add more cinnamon or sugar. You try not to go overboard with the latter. You push your tongue through the mouthful as soles tap closer. The men in their suits and women in their cleancut dresses sift into the building with pricey briefcases and branded coffee cups. 

"Ahem," the pointed leather toes turn and stop before you. 

You look up and swallow. You hide your mouth as you lick your lips. "Mr. Laufeyson. Good morning," you greet. 

"Waiting on me?" He tilts his head. 

"Um, no. Just eating my breakfast." You stir the oats. 

"Outside?" 

"It's... a nice morning," you shrug. 

"Suppose," he mutters. "Well, if you would like to come inside..." 

"I'll be on time," you assure him. 

He narrows his eyes before he goes. You bite your cheek and eye the half-finished container. You feel guilty. You twist the lid on and wipe the spoon clean with a tissue and tuck it all in your bag. Your hunger evaporates. 

You take your travel mug in with you as you hitch up your bag. You slow before you get to the stairs. You suppose you could stop and make sure to appease him. 

The cafe is mostly empty and you put in the usual order. The woman at the counter smiles. A girl, really. Younger than you. She might be in school. When you were her age, not very long ago, you were already in orange. 

"Would you like to try our new light roast espresso?" She asks. 

"Oh, no, it's not for me," you say as you count out change for the tip jar. 

She nods and thanks you for the tip. 

"You mean you come here every day and it's not for you?" She asks. 

"My boss. He works upstairs." 

"Right," she smiles. "Well..." she moves behind the display and grabs a thin sheet of parchment. She plucks out one of the swirled cupcakes. "Cinnamon bun. Another new creation." She shoves it into a bag and puts it on the counter, "free of charge." 

"Oh, no, I can't--" 

"I won't tell anyone," she smiles. 

"Um, okay, thanks, but... why?" You ask. 

"I don't know. You're here all the time. Kind of a hassle to be running down here all the time when you're not even getting anything out of it." 

"I guess so. It's nice. Thanks." 

"Let me know if you like it. I had to get up early to bake." She says. 

"Sure." 

She makes the cortado and you take it with another thank you. You head up with the end of the paper bag scrunched against your travel mug. You approach the door and realise you are a bit short of hands. You knock on the door with your elbow. 

You wait. You try again. Finally, it opens. 

"At last," Laufeyson sneers. 

"Coffee," you offer him the cortado. 

He makes a noise. Almost as if he's surprised. He takes it and backs off. 

"Mr. Laufeyson," you cross to the desk and put your cup and muffin on the desk, your bag in the chair. "I had something I wanted to suggest." 

"Mm, and that would be?" 

"A coffee machine? Or kettle. I drew up a pricing analysis--" 

"Oh, is that your suggestion? What is it, then? Are your feet getting sore? Not used to hard work?" 

"Um," you shake your head. "No, sir. It would be more cost-efficient--" 

"I've no worry for finances. It is my specialty, darling," he retorts. Your lips part then snap shut. You nod. 

"Understood." 

"Besides, it hardly seems you mind so much. What is that you've stowed away?" He points to the paper bag. You look at it and swipe it up. 

"A muffin," you turn to him. "Want it?" 

"Want it? Do I want a sugar-laced mess? No, I do have some standards... despite hiring you." 

Your brows pop up and you blink. You drop the bag on your desk and grit your teeth. You have to make yourself turn away. You pry your fists open and tap the button on the laptop. 

"Something to say?" He prompts coyly. 

"No, sir, I'm only starting up for the day--" 

"Ah, then, you will remember to smile." You don't say anything as you move your bag out of your chair. As you bend to nestle it under your desk, you feel a tickle along the back of your skirt. "Perhaps you might invest in an iron with your first check." 

You snap up and spin, swiping away his hand with a swat. "I didn't give you permission to touch me." 

His green irises flash and he takes a smug sip of coffee, "oh," he shakes out his other hand. "Violence." 

You frown, "no, you... you touched me first." 

"Ah, yes," he holds out his ivory hand to examine, "see, it is already red." 

You shake your head, "you--" 

"I believe that is against your probationary arrangement," he tuts. "Dina did seem rather concerned for your propensity towards anger." 

"I'm not-- I didn't-- you--" 

"Tsk, tsk, and it was going so well." 

You stare at him, temples thumping as he backs away and twists on his heel. He struts into his office with a snicker. You fall into your chair and slump. You should've known it's all too good to be true. 

[writingoddess1125]

Flowers Watered By Tears

DAMN! This is super old lol I forgot I had this in the chamber. Not proof read (Shooting this out as is)

Loki and FemReader + OOC

ANGST! HEAVY ANGST! small bit of fluff at very end

⚠️Warnings: ⚠️ Implied DubCon/NonCon teetering on the lines, Angst!

Loki wasn’t searching for anything in particular.

His fingers moved idly over the TemPad, skimming through case files without really reading them, however rolled his eyes when his own name popped up.

Mentally he didn't know why but he reviewed it once more.. Maybe with fresh eyes or just a bit of self punishment.

He had seen it all before really- his failures, his missteps, his deaths. Flipping through records of his own history like an outsider peering into a life he barely recognized.

But then-

His scrolling stopped.

The file was tucked away, buried deep in a section that shouldn’t have caught his eye. It wasn’t labeled like the others, just a series of numbers and letters meant to be overlooked. But Loki had spent enough time in the TVA to recognize a deliberately misplaced file when he saw one.

And he knew, instinctively, that it was something they didnt want him to know.

He clicked it open prepared for nothing in particular..

Subject: (Y/N) [REDACTED]

Location: Stuttgart, Germany

Confirmed Conception

Status: Active Timeline Variant

Loki eyes narrowed as he thought about the name... (Y/N)? It was vague but like a small sentence in a very long book.

Shrugging he started to read though, however his brow began to come together as he read through- However the further he read the deeper his stomach sank... Memories of Stuttgart surged forward, unwelcome and sickening. The way he had strutted through that crowd, basking in the terror he had cultivated...

How before he had raided that Gala he decided that a personal need was deserved. The way he had chosen you foreign student, vulnerable, alone because he could.. nothing then a boost to his ego-

He had known what he was doing. He had known you were afraid, 'agreeing' only out of fear. And still, he had gone further.. Something that made his wince and sigh-

As he pushed through the file his stomach dropped with each sentence and his eyes widened-

Loki slammed the TemPad onto the desk, shoving back from the screen as if it had burned him. His chest heaved, nausea curling in his stomach.

"Loki."

Mobius seemingly to have appeared out of nowhere, Loki assuming due to pounding of his heart in his ears to not hear the man- who was currently leaned against the cubicle, arms crossed, gaze steady but unreadable. Compared to Loki's admittedly terrified look.

"You knew."

Mobius didn’t flinch. "Yeah."

Loki’s lip curled in what could only be a twisted snarl, something he hadn't sported in some time "And you hid it from me?"

Mobius sighed, stepping closer to the God. "I didn’t hide it. I just… didn’t tell you."

Loki only lets out a bitter laugh, Closer to a sob then a real laugh tho "Semantics."

Möbius tilted his head with a light shrug. "You weren’t ready."

Loki anger simmered in him as he felt his eyes water "And now I am?"

Morbius studied him for a moment before gesturing to the TemPad. "You found it, didn’t you?"

Loki clenched his jaw. "That doesn’t mean I know what to do with it! A child- MY Child!"

Möbius exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Loki. I knew this was gonna shake you. And yeah, maybe I should’ve told you sooner. But back then? You had enough on your plate trying to figure out who you even are. You were still running from your past, trying to prove you weren’t that guy anymore."

Loki felt his anger seemingly deflate, his body almost crumbling into itself as he felt hisbeyes water further.. turning back to the TemPad, staring at the photo of yohr face, with a shaking hand he pulled the device back to him, now resting it in his lap as he hovered over it like someone would take it from him.

He felt tears run down his cheeks as he didn't even bother to hide it-

"My mother would be so ashamed of me..."

He mumbled softly, unsure why that was the first thing to pass through his lips was this given the gravity of this, but it did?..

He flipped to the next file, And his eyes softened at the picture. More tears falling as he wiped them with the best of his abilities, Reading more as a watery smile went over his lips at the name.

"Dahlia"

"Hold still, baby, I can’t button your coat if you’re wiggling," you sighed, fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons of Dahlia’s blue jacket as she giggled, squirming like an excited puppy.

"Mama" Dahlia huffed wrinkling her nose, her small hands gripping her favorite toy of this week currently a frog with an admittedly fucked up face since it had been from the bargin bin. "I big now!"

You smiled despite yourself, brushing a stray dark curl from her face. "You’ll always be my baby, no matter how big you get."

Dahlia rolled dramatically her bright green eyes- his eyes- but she leaned into your touch anyway. Having recently leaned how to roll her eyes and the meaning- Aka her whole body did a circle movement when she rolled them.

"Goofy"

You chuckled out, Setting her down as she rushed off to you could only hope to get some other random toy, However that was wishful thinking- her dark hair bouncing behind and for a second she looked like him..

Closing your eyes, you exhaled softly, trying to push the memories back. Trying not to think about the few shlrt nights that had changed your life.

You had never really wanted to think too deeply about it all- even at the time had mixed feelings if you even truly wanted that night either or if you were just too terrified to think of what other options you haf. But you had been young, alone in a foreign country, and utterly terrified of thw good before you.

Loki had been everything you had been taught to fear dangerous, unpredictable, cruel.

His desire for power and to rule, as if to establish this he had turned his attention to you, voice dripping with venomous amusement as he issued his demands, every King should have a few stress relieves- Concubine or sorts but lower which is what you had been and had done what he asked. Like a snake that wrapped around you- terrifying, cold, but unique in its own sick way.

Even now, years later, the shame still clung to you. The knowledge that you had been a toy for a god. Even when you closed your eyes you still saw yourself looking up at him as those green eyes stared down at you like some pet- However those would get smothered away.

By Dahlia…

She was yours. Yours to love, to protect, to raise far away from the shadow of the man who had terrorized a city, a world and you.

She didn’t know who he was. She never would, And you were happy with that. However whenever you looked to her, You felt a tinge of worry... Half her blood was of another world-

How long did you have before that would rear it's ugly little head into your life? However that would be for another day, hopefully a lifetime away.

Dahlia ran back to you, as those dark thoughts got washed away by her bright smile. Now adding to the ugly little frog was a equally fucked up horse, Snorting a bit of a laugh. However scooped her up in your arms as you got the house keys.

"Very nice Sweetie, Now come on before we miss the Bus"

[cake-writes]

Loki x Reader Masterlist

CHAPTER FICS

Wildflower (18+) 🌸🥺️🚫 (TW: Incest.) It’s never bothered you before, sharing such cramped quarters with your brothers amidst a siege. You’ve done it for centuries. While once upon a time it may have even been a comfort, now it’s entirely too suffocating. And it’s all because you’ve been having such vile, wicked thoughts about the one person you absolutely shouldn’t.

A Dutiful Disaster (18+) 🏆🌸🔥 In which you marry Loki, Prince of Asgard, the one person you absolutely cannot stand. (Enemies to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Royalty.) 

honey & glass (eventually 18+) 🌸 Loki meets an insignificant little peanut during his prison sentence stay in the Tower. (Enemies? to Friends to Lovers, Rags to Riches, Slow Burn.)

The Seven-Year Itch (18+) 🌸🔥 You lose your memory of the last seven years during a filthy romp in the sheets with your Asgardian husband. (Amnesia, Angst.)

TWO-SHOTS

Ostara (18+) 🔥🚫  (TW: soft noncon.) Heat / mating cycles. Pain kink. Fluff afterwards. & Lammas (18+)  🔥🚫 (TW: noncon, psychological.) Reader gets her revenge. Fluff afterwards. 

ONE-SHOTS

Panacea (18+) 🔥🌸 A drabble about Loki’s love for you.

2:33am (18+) 🔥🌸 Consensual non-consent.

Full (18+) 🔥🌸 Size kink. Pain kink. Jotun!Loki. 

Lady Loki drabble (18+) 🔥 WLW. Soft dom. Bisexual reader.

Yuletide Delights (18+)  🔥 Filthy breeding kink smut.

[latent-thoughts]

Ravished by a God - Chapter 40

Summary: When a God decides to chase you, what do you do? You’re Tony Stark’s employee, living in the famed Stark Tower. One day, you get cornered by the notorious God of Mischief and have a very revealing experience about your own kinks. Hence begins your clandestine dance with Loki, who is all too keen to claim you as his and show you all the forbidden pleasures he has to offer.

However, your kinky dance with him is not the only concern you have. Something murky is brewing within SHIELD, and Tony Stark specifically wants you to find the root of it. What can a mere human do when caught between superheroes, gods and a deviant government? You’re about to find out.

[WARNING: This work contains NSFW explicit and taboo sexual themes like noncon/dubcon, BDSM, spanking, etc. It is strictly 18+. Reader discretion is advised. Consume your media wisely.]

Pairing: Loki/Reader (F)

The doors opened and closed with a loud thud, welcoming in whoever had knocked. From what you could hear, it was only a single individual.

“Greetings, sire, am I disturbing you?” a feminine voice asked after a moment of silence—likely because this person was bowing to Loki first, before speaking.

“Greetings, Lady Gefjon. Not at all,” he replied cheerfully. Too cheerfully. “How fares the fairest of my mother’s handmaidens?”

A giggle resounded in the room, clearly in response to his words. You scowled, then bit his inner thigh, making him jump slightly. His hand tried to push you away, but you bit his fingers too.

[READ ON AO3]