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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, 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: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: friday! coworkers last day!

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!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You pass through the gate, cautious to close it without a noise. You trail past the hedges and around the side of the house. You enter through the back, as you did in those early days, only weeks ago, though it seems years.

You move slowly, leaving your shoes out of the way, disregarding the closet as you cling to the strap of your bag and venture warily onward. You pause before the kitchen door and peek around, finding it empty. You tiptoe on and climb the stairs one at a time, flinching at ever creak.

You reach the top and keep your eyes down. You go to the library and slip inside, like a ghost floating through your own existence. You set the bag by your feet and pull out the laptop to begin your day.

You don't think, not past the list of tasks. You boot the computer and wait for the screen to light up. You type in the pass code and open Excel. You lean your head in your hand, eyes glazing over as the glare sears your vision, stamping with endless columns and tiny numbers.

You feel yourself slumping, the strength whittling away by the second. Your eyes droop even as your ears prick at each noise. You shake your head, trying to ward off the needling fatigue. You yawn and sit up, rubbing your eyelids as you square your shoulders.

You let your head hang back and drop your arms into your lap. Your stomach wriggles as Mr. Laufeyson's looming presence creeps into your mind. He's here somewhere and surely, he already knows you are too. He's just waiting to pounce.

Your fears furl into faded dreams. A fractured series of scenes, twisted reflections of reality rippling into each other until you dizzy. You can hear your own snores yet don't quite realise you're asleep.

You wake with a start as you feel yourself slipping. You barely catch yourself before you flop off the chair. You spasm and grip the arm rest as a shadow lurks behind your laptop screen. You gape up at Mr. Laufeyson as he watches you with arms folded.

"Hm," he tilts his head, "that shirt is... not very professional."

"Sir," you keep your face down as your cheek thrums, swollen and bruised, "I'm sorry, I... I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh yes, of course, I hadn't even mentioned you sleeping on the job," he growls and uncrosses his arms, bringing his hands down to the desk. He leans in so his head is just above the laptop. "Look at me."

"Mr. Laufeyson, I'm just sorting out the expenses--"

"Look at me," he commands more firmly.

You wince and rub your neck. An ache radiates in your shoulder, another remnant of your father's wrath. You slowly raise your chin as your lip twitches just slightly. His eyes narrow and his jaw ticks.

He's silent as he stares at you. Angry, you can tell. You pull your hands back and fold them against your chest.

"Please, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It won't happen again--"

"What happened to your clothes?" He slithers darkly.

"Nothing, I... I wasn't paying attention this morning--"

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," you squeak unconvincingly.

His nostrils flare and he slaps his palm on the desk. You sit back, pressing yourself to the chair as you whimper.

"I underestimated that... scum," he spits out.

"I don't know--"

"Go on and lie again. What is it this time? You took a tumble?" He reaches out and you shy away, expecting him to put another swell in your cheek. Instead, he touches the thrumming skin, stroking it, "I didn't think..." he takes a breath and withdraws his hand, standing stiffly, "I believed him a coward, but not that sort."

"It's not--"

"Hush. You make your excuse for him, I will not swallow them," he flicks his fingers at you dismissively.

He rolls his shoulders and pivots on his heel. He paces across the patterned rug and stops, just before the sofa. He turns back, making another line across the space. He brings his finger up to tap his chin.

"Yes, very well, I see I do have somewhere to be," he states as he drops his hand, his lips curving at the corners.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you stand.

"Never you mind," he tuts, "you have your work, I have mine." He cracks his knuckles.

"Are you--"

"Ah ah," he points at you tersely, "since when is my itinerary your concern? Mind the house, that is your job." He huffs and checks his watch as a pinch lines his forehead, "you may receive the expected parcel and leave it on my desk for now..." he lowers his hand and grumbles, "and you will stay here."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

Before you can protest further, he's at the door. You're frozen in disbelief. Surely he can't mean what you think.

It doesn't matter to him, does it? You are his house manager, just another below him he can torment, he wouldn't do anything like that. Certainly, he won't harm your father, right?

You rush after him as your doubts bubble over. As he enters the hallway, you grab his elbow, not thinking, not hesitating for once in your life. "Please, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever you're thinking of--"

He faces you and rips his arm free, "don't."

"Please, it's-- I--" you sputter helplessly and wring your hands, "I deserved it."

He squares his chin and blinks. "Deserve... so it was him?"

"Mr. Laufeyson, it isn't... isn't your problem. He's my dad, I'll deal with him."

"As you have so far?" He scoffs, "pet, I mean to defend you. To do you a favour. Another. And now you overstep and try to command me?"

"No, no, I'm not... not commanding. I'm begging," you clutch your hands tighter, putting them up to plead, "don't make it worse."

He dips his head and closes his eyes. He pinches his nose and gives a nod, rubbing his lips together. He raises his head and opens his eyes again. He shrugs and lets a grin break through.

"It isn't your choice," he grabs your wrists, locking them together in his grasp as he drags you forward.

Your socks slip on the floorboards as he tugs you down the hallway. You struggle, writhing and sliding against his force. The same panic that struck you last night swirls again, thumping in your chest. He turns and swings you through the door of his bedroom. You stagger as he lets you go and the door swiftly snaps shut behind you.

You turn to face it and throw yourself against it, twisting the handle as you try to pull it open. He holds it shut from the other side and you hear the lock grind into place. You hit the door with your fists and cry out.

"Mr. Laufeyson!"

"I will return shortly, pet, never you worry," he assures, "don't miss me too much."

You slap the wood again and press your ear to it. You listen as he struts away, whistling until it fades to silence. You hear the front door below, shortly followed by the car engine rolling to life. You rush over to the window and look at as he steers up to the gate.

You can hear his knuckles cracking and see that sinister smirk. His intentions cannot be good.

✨

Your exhaustion slakes away to panic. You pace the room, bounce up and down on your feet, fidget incessantly, murmuring senselessly. You just can't be still. What is Mr. Laufeyson doing?

Your fears twist your imagination to terror. Is he going to hurt your father? He should just leave him alone. He's the one who got him so worked up. That last thought makes you stop short.

It's his fault. It's all his fault. He heard everything on the phone, he knew your dad has anger issues, he walked into your home and he ruined it all.

Your lashes flutter as you sway. You feel like you've been struck all over again. Mr. Laufeyson has done this all to you! He gave you this job, he took you away from your dad, he invaded your home, he made you wear those clothes.

And now, you're mad. You feel that hot streak inside of you unlike anything before. Vivid and venomous. You run to the door, throwing yourself against it as you beat with your fists.

He's locked you up here so you can't stop him from doing anymore. You're sleeping in a hotel because of him. You're not eating or sleeping, you can feel yourself going insane. Because of him.

You're dizzy and breathless. You lean on the door and try to calm yourself. Your head hurts.

You slide down and turn to put your back against the door. You hang your head, bending your legs to rest your arms over them. You heave and close your eyes.

You're just as helpless as you've ever been.

✨

The footsteps bring you out of your daze. You raise your head, wobbly on your neck, and blink several times before you get your bearings. You listen to Mr. Laufeyson's entry, his slow advance below, and his steady ascension up the staircase.

Your heart hitches but you don't move. Even if you had the strength, you refuse. You will not budge.

He comes down the staircase, a hum in the air. You tense and grit your teeth, eyes hot again with tears. Not sad but angry.

"Ah, pet, you will be happy to hear that I don't believe your father will have another cruel world reserved for you," he sings the handle shifts slightly above your head and the lock clicks. "How shall we celebrate your emancipati--"

The door jolts and you push back against it. You plant your feet and grunt as you force it shut. He lets out a noise and shoves back. You do it again.

"Pet," he evens his tone, "what are you up to?"

"Leave me alone!" You snarl, surprised by your own venom.

"Pet, now, let me in--"

"I said go away!"

He scoffs and stops pushing. He lets out his breath loudly.

"This isn't mature behaviour."

"I don't care, I don't want to see you."

He's quiet again. You hear his soles scuff and he gently taps on the door.

"Pet, please, we should talk. I think it's imperative that we do--"

"No, I don't want to talk. I don't want to see you. I want you to leave me alone!"

"You are being a child--"

"You ruined everything," you bark, "you ruined my life! You're a bad man and I hate you!"

You go weak as the last words escape you without a thought. You collapse onto your bottom and catch your head in your hands. You devolve into thick, choking sobs. Here you are, bawling like the child he calls you. He must be amused.

"Are you tendering your resignation?" He asks crisply, "because I believe you haven't anywhere else to go, my dear."

"I know! Because of you. I have nowhere, because you!" You shoot back through heaving breaths.

"Or... you could have somewhere, because of me," he says measuredly. "Pet, all you have to do is open the door and talk to me."

You fall onto your side and curl up. You cover your head, whimpering as tears trickle down. You sniffle and hide under your arm. Just like you did when dad wouldn't stop yelling.

The floorboards shift and he sighs again, "I can wait." He taps the door lightly once more and his footfalls retreat.

You tremble in a heap, nearly delirious with emotion. Through the chaos, you can see the truth. You don't have anywhere or anything without him.

✨

The world shifts under you, your body chafing across the floor as the door moves you. Not harshly but inch by inch. Mr. Laufeyson bends over you as you open your eyes, groggy and glazed over. His silhouette is fuzzy and distant as he slides his arms under you.

He lifts you and carries you to the bed. You groan as he lays you down, piling pillows behind you to prop you up. He sits with his legs over the side and pushes his head back. You come to, little by little, pushing through the fog.

You hug yourself and wiggle in place. He reaches to still you, his hand on your thigh. You wince and stare at his fingers. He draws his knee up and shifts to face you. He removes his touch as his eyes cling thoughtfully to the wall behind you.

"I see you've calmed down," he begins and lets his gaze fall on you, "so we will talk. I'm sure you're aware that matters are urgent."

"No..." you utter, "I'll... go."

You try to sit up and he nudges you back. You hit the pillows and do not try again. You don't have anything left in you.

"Where?" He challenges.

"I have a hotel room--"

"No," he shakes his head, "that won't do. What I'm offering, well, you can hardly deny it."

You drop your head and shrug.

"How many more nights can you afford? And without a job? I'm offering you both. Work, accommodation. I dare to say, I would offer you a home."

"No, you're my boss," you insist.

"Yes, I do expect you to shoulder some tasks," he assures, "but perhaps... we might remold this arrangement."

Your eyes stick blankly to your knees. You don't know what he wants or what he means. Just more. It's always more. Hasn't he taken enough?

"What more can you want from me?" You whisper.

He's quiet again. His fingers twiddle and he lifts his hand, touching your arm and slowly grasping it. He unwraps it from your torso and trails down to your hand, squeezing it.

"I made myself clear before," he pulls your hand closer, cradling it as he pets your knuckles, "but perhaps you still misunderstood me." He clasps your hand between both of his, "I want you. Entirely."

Your eyes flick up to meet his. Your mouth falls open as your heart tempos wildly. You still don't think you understand. Your search his face for the answer.

"I will grant you any wish. Clothes, jewellery, whatever you like. If you like to read, I will buy you books, if you like to draw, I will buy you paint. If you just want shiny things, I can get those too. All I ask is simple. For you. For your entire being. That you obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for. Things you never even dreamed of," he slips a hand away and lifts yours. He leans in and softly kisses your knuckles, "you say I am bad, but I needn't be.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 month

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I submit a humble degradation kink🫢

I submit a humble drabble! :D

"On Your Knees"

Loki has caught you being a flirt. Time to pay for your sins.

Content Warning (18+ DNI): smut, degradation, some choking/gagging kink, the word 'bitch' is used, this is Dark!Loki Word Count: 400

Your head was bowed submissively as Loki walked around you in a circle.

“You really cannot help yourself, can you?” he growled, his ominous, rolling vocal inflections sending electric chills through your skin. “Flirting with every shit-covered stable boy you come across, are you?”

You didn’t speak. You knew he didn’t want you to say anything. You kept yourself contrite, on your knees, naked before him as he’d commanded when he angrily brought you back to his room.

“Oh, it is a little whore,” he hummed. “With the silly mind of a maid inside the body of someone who knows what to do with it.”

Two black boots stopped in front of you.

“Look at me while I’m talking to you, girl.” Loki warned. “I want to see you trembling.”

You widened your eyes and looked up. Your gaze received immediately with two angry, piercing blue eyes that looked ready to rip you in half with his cock.

Not satisfied, Loki maneuvered quickly so that he was kneeling behind you, each leg on your hip, pinning you in place with his thighs while he briskly took your neck in his palm. This yanked your body against his bare, sweating chest, and forced you to look up into his face again.

“Pathetic, I do believe even as I punish you, you enjoy it. Is this the way a princess acts? No, tsk tsk.” His hand was slightly choking your throat, just enough to keep you locked in place against him. His cock was hard enough that you could feel it pulsing against the small of your back. “I ought to put you on a leash. Seems the only way I can control a bitch is by treating her like one until she learns to behave herself.”

“Sire!” you exclaimed involuntarily.

“Silence!” Loki commanded, slapping his free hand over your mouth, gagging you into submission again.

“You’ve lost the privilege of standing with your head equal to mine tonight. You will crawl and creep on the floor like the lowly slut you’ve acted as. Now, you will slither over to the bed and make yourself ready for me. Perhaps if you please me tonight, I will see fit to lift your punishment at dawn.”

He paused for effect, leaning down so that your noses were touching even as his hands were still on your mouth and neck.

“Although with the way you’ve been lately, maybe I won’t.”

Thanks for the submission! I'm trying to exercise my smut muse a bit, so ANYONE IS WELCOME TO SUBMIT KINKS FOR ME TO WRITE BLURBS ABOUT! I hope you enjoyed!

@queen-paladin @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbsblr

@loopsisloops @lcolumbia1988 @lokisgoodgirl @glitchquake @gigglingtiggerv2

#loki #fanfiction #loki x reader #loki smut #degrading kink #light choking #dark loki

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lokisarium · 5 months

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..and here's the close-up ♡

#loki #dark loki #his wrists oh god #gothic prince #mjgallery #aicreation #og loki

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five-miles-over · 6 months

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

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

Warnings: Mentions of character death

"We shouldn't be here."

"Then keep your voice down!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't believe it."

Revna quickly turned around. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, trembling while you rose to your feet.

"Good girl."

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to know who you are."

"You already do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because it's what I always do."

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

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

"Even the All-Father?"

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

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

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

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

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

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #mcu loki #loki of asgard #loki au #loki imagines #loki imagine #loki x you #dark loki

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highonmarvel · 8 months

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Can’t even trust yourself

Loki: Strange nights affect your days.

An entry for Day 6 of the exciting @sintember challenge!

Warnings: NON-CON, nightmares, severe anxiety and paranoia, possible psychosis, 18+!

Prompt: Cant’t even trust yourself, ft Loki of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

For the 11th night in a row you startle awake with a gasp, heart hammering, body sweating so much you can’t go back to sleep without taking a shower. You had been having these strange dreams for nearly a year now, but the last month or two they had been so vivid they felt more real than life itself.

You drag yourself out of bed, trying to slow your breathing as you make your way to the bathroom. The worst part is you don’t even really remember these dreams, just that they leave you panicked and weak and sore all over, but particularly your breasts, between your thighs, and your neck; blame it on your lack of sex.

You flick on the light in the bathroom and turn to the mirror. You shriek and nearly jump back in shock at your reflection. Where your neck feels tender, there’s a purple bruise spreading across your skin. You try to smudge it off, hoping it was fucking paint or something, who cares, you were just hoping it wasn’t really a bruise… not a bruise like that. No matter how hard you wipe it, it doesn’t come off. It’s just a random bruise, you tell yourself, some people bruise easily, maybe you hurt yourself and didn’t notice. Yeah. Though, still, as you stand under the flow of boiling water, so hot you wonder how it hasn’t burnt your skin off, you scrub violently at the mark. It’s still there when you take another look in the mirror.

After barely getting any sleep last night, you’re exhausted in the morning as you made your way to the office. Whether or not you usually get coffee, you know you’d physically need it today, and so you take a quick detour to the café across the street. You’re happy to see the cheerful blue-eyed barista is working this morning, and happy the place is near empty; only a tall figure in front of you in the line and a pair of scattered young people bent over laptops with papers and highlighters cluttering the table. Finals, you think, noting the 10+ empty coffee cups littering their feet.

You wait patiently (though you’re exhausted) behind the man as he gives his order, and Roger the barista nods and hurries to make it. Was that even his name? You didn’t really know, he wasn’t in too often, you just spotted him by those bright blue eyes. Maybe it was Riley or Ringo or something.

The man in front of you is handed his drink, and when you turns around, your blood runs cold. You take a deep gasp and step backwards. You don’t even get a good look at him before his back is towards you and all you can do is stare at his disappearing silhouette. You’re shaking, and you don’t know why; you can’t at all recall his appearance besides pale skin and long, black hair, but still it’s like he flipped some kind of switch and adrenaline started pumping through every vein in your body.

“Ma’am?”

You turn at the voice back to the counter. It’s not the blue-eyed barista you’re met with: you see the same face, but with eyes pure black.

You stumble out of the coffee shop without getting the caffeine you need, because you can not stay in there a second longer. Maybe you don’t need the coffee; now you feel fully alert. You jump as strangers passes by as you make your way across the street and up to your desk, trembling so much you wonder if you’ll ever stop. Once you’re at your desk, though, you do feel a little better; you’re no longer shaking, but still, anyone that comes up to you scares the fuck out of you, you have many close calls with an entire fucking heart attack, you can swear it. A few people ask you throughout the day if you’re okay, if you need to go home, but you assure them you’re fine, and when you finally get off, you feel kind of good about yourself for sticking it through the day, but that feeling fades as the sun does.

It’s dark out when you hop out of your car and make your way up to your apartment, and it doesn’t help your anxiety that the lights have been flickering in the corridor of your floor for about a week now, and no one had bothered to fix it.

The lift opens and you step out into the passage with the lights having a seizure of their own, it seems. Dark, light, dark, light, you’re at least glad it’s consistent, but while on any other day this would have been an annoyance, today, it’s panic-inducing.

Your place is near the end of the corridor, quite far down, and while you want to run, something tells you your body can’t take having to increase your heart rate any further or you’ll drop dead in the middle of your sprint. And why should you run? You’re a little angry with yourself—it was just a weird dream, and it had you fucked up all day. Pathetic. Your irritation does little to drown out your fear, however. On and off the lights flick at rhythm, like they’re singing a song on a steady beat.

You’re a few steps in when the lights go out for one, two seconds too long, barely enough time for feat to build, but it does; you know you can’t trust yourself to discern reality from fiction, but you do. You start walking faster. You throw a look over your shoulder; in front of the elevator stands a tall silhouette, but breathing; an alive shadow. You gasp and spin around to face it. There’s nothing there. You turn back, walking faster and faster now, but still trying to refrain from running.

The lights flick off, flick on, there’s a shadow. Flick off, flick on, there’s a shadow. What can you do except run straight towards it? Your door is in that direction, you just need to get inside. Maybe it would have seemed insane to anyone on the outside—it felt insane to you—but you start running, full speed towards what you’re trying to escape. On and off the lights flick and the silhouette comes in and out of sight, unmoving, and deeply unsettling.

You don’t know how you get your door open so fast, but you do, not fumbling once with your keys despite your wrecked state. You slam the door closed behind you and lock it, firmly pressing your back against it as you begin to hyperventilate.

What the fuck.

Tears are streaming down your face and you swear your chest is caving in on itself. You grasp at the kitchen counter and heave yourself forwards, breaths coming in and out at lightning speed, yet you still don’t feel you’re getting enough oxygen, you don’t feel you’re getting any oxygen, for that matter. It feels like a hand is wrapped around your throat, asphyxiating you as you stumble around your living area.

A hand? And pulling?

You’re being led towards your bedroom by your neck, and though you want to say it’s the miracle of getting your feet to move again, no, there’s definitely something pulling, dragging you towards your room.

You claw at the doorway and dig your heels into the ground, but that barely deters whatever is acting upon you. You’re flung onto the bed, and hit the mattress with a force that feels way too familiar, though obviously this has never happened before; you’d never had a ghost drag you through your home, or maybe it was psychosis, but you’d never had a psychotic episode like this.

You prop yourself up onto your forearms and scan the room for a sign of anything. At this point, you’re hoping someone will pop out, to confirm you haven’t completely lost it. And you immediately regret that hope.

Out of seemingly thin air, a figure steps forward. You know it. Tall, every tall, and long black hair, pale skin, you saw him at the café, but that’s not where you know him from, you know him from something much more personal, something deeper; you barely know him in your conscious mind, but your subconscious recognises it all.

This is a dream! it strikes you, and you slightly calm down, knowing you’re going to wake up at any second now. Why aren’t you waking up? A man you’ve never seen before is still stalking towards you.

You scream and kick your feet as he reaches the foot of the bed, even though he hasn’t touched you yet. In a literal flash he grips your ankles and twists, prying your legs apart and pinning your feet on the bed. Still, you struggle against him. He removes his hands, and now in their place are glowing virescent ropes tying you down, your hands have been restrained too, each limb reaching towards a corner of the bed. You writhe, twisting and thrusting your hips, crying the whole time. Why aren’t you waking up? What the fuck is even happening?

But you know exactly what it is happening.

The dark-haired man snaps his fingers and you’re naked and exposed. Maintaining direct eye contact with you, calmly, despite your conniption, he slowly pushes two long fingers into his mouth and drags them out with a pop.

Wake up, wake up, wake up, you will yourself, wishing more than anything ever, and more than anyone ever could to just wake up!

He unbuckles his belt, still quiet (why hasn’t he said anything?) and staring you down. And suddenly, he pounces on you, diving to harshly suck on your neck, the spot that had been sore. You try to bring your hand down to push him away but are met with the unfriendly reminder you’re restrained. You cry out at the assault, his sucking and biting is near animalistic.

And someone, you call out a name, his name, “Loki!”

४

#sintember 2023 #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #dark loki #dark loki x reader #yandere loki #yandere!loki #dark avengers #dark!avengers

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shadeysprings · 1 year

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The Princess of Asgard

—Loki x F!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you lost, princess?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gifts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #dark loki #dark!loki #dark fic #mcu #au #the princess of asgard

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springdandelixn · 1 year

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The Great Escape

Summary: Your chance of freedom diminishes as the prince reminds you of your place.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, magic bondage, outdoor sex, humiliation, physical violence.

Characters: Dark!Loki x Reader

A/N: This fic is part of the Secret Santa Collection by @fictive-sl0th. As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs will be amazing. I hope you guys enjoy! 💚

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you run as fast as you could down the path to the docks, your sack of meager belongings bouncing at your side. You see the longboat to Vanir just up ahead, hearing the boatman calling for final passengers and a smile of relief plays on your lips, almost tasting the freedom that you’ve been yearning for since meeting the prince.

You couldn’t miss the window of opportunity presented to you when Tove pulled you to dance with her and Brigit. You made it a point to squeeze between the towering forms of the men and the swaying bodies of the women, moving along to the music to put on a show of enjoyment and basking in the sounds of the lute and trumpets booming in the great hall as the celebration reached its peak.

As soon as you saw Loki’s attention averted toward Lord Fandral, you immediately made to escape the festivity; stalking silently across the halls so as to not get caught by any servant or guard that is loyal to the prince. You grabbed your sack by the gates and wasted no second running away from the palace.

You grunt as your foot gets caught in the muddy path. You pull yourself free but your slippers get stuck into the earth. Still, you pay them no mind, leaving them behind as you continue your sprint toward the boat.

The docks finally come to view and you can’t help the tears that spring from your eyes as you feel the clutches of Loki slip from your mind but you gasp all of a sudden and stop in your tracks when you feel your throat tighten. Your knees buckle and you collapse to the ground, your hand reaching for your neck as the pressure around it intensifies, grabbing on the chain of the necklace around your throat.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Little Mouse?” A chill fills your bones when you hear the baritone of Loki’s voice.

“Lo—” You try to speak but the grip around your neck tightens, choking you while the emerald stone hanging on the necklace glows brightly against your skin.

The breath is knocked out of you when you’re kicked at your side, rolling unto your back, fear creeping up your spine when you see Loki’s face above yours, angry and menacing. You gasp for air when the tension around your throat is lifted but Loki drops his foot over your chest, squirming against the dirt path as he pins you to the ground.

“I look away for one second and I find you here, trying to flee.” He sneers and you yelp when he presses down his boot harder.

“Please, Loki—”

“I dress you in lavish clothes and adorn you in the finest jewelry. I give you the comforts of the palace and this is how you repay me?!” He snarls, his foot lifting from your chest but it is no reprieve as he kicks your side once more.

Your hands reach down to soothe the searing pain in your ribs but you’re not given that chance when Loki drops to his knees, flipping you back on your stomach and clamping his fingers around the back of your neck, choking once again when he pushes you further into the dirt.

You struggle in turning your head to the side, digging your fingers into the soil as you try to push yourself off the ground, hoping you’d push him off just the same. But your strength is no match with the god, your attempts proving futile as he remains atop you, his weight pressing down on you.

Panic surges through your veins when you feel his hand pulling at the skirts of your dress, the same one he’s given you along with the necklace before the feast, the fabric bunching up at your waist and you try to kick him away, legs flailing. You only stop when he slaps your thigh harshly, tugging at your small clothes roughly and looking at the flimsy fabric when he throws it at the side of your head.

“Loki—”

“You have no respect!” He snarls and you whimper when his hand presses against your cunt, fingers deftly moving to circle around your bud. “You have lost the privilege to say my name!” A cry is pulled from your lips when he dips two fingers into your slit, hating yourself for how your body readily responds to his touch, the slick gathering at the apex of your thighs.

You feel his impatience as he thrusts his fingers deeper, faster, a reluctant moan slipping from your lips when he spreads them apart, stretching you wide. You try to push him off once more but he doesn’t move, only stopping any further attempts when he squeezes the sides of our neck hard.

“Stop trying to find a way out of this.” Loki snarls, leaving you hollow when he pulls out his fingers, smearing your wetness on the inside of your thigh. Another wave of fear washes over you when you hear him fumbling with his pants from behind.

“My prince—please,” You beg and try to reach behind you, to stop him from his brutality, but your words fall on deaf ears and your hands desist to move, wrists pinned into the dirt by his Seiðr and you’re left at his mercy, free for him to use you as he pleases.

Your tears spring free from your eyes as you whimper and continue to implore for his compassion, to release you from his wrath. His hand leaves your neck all the same and he goes to grab you by the hips, pulling you flush against his pelvis and feeling his cock brush threateningly against your cunt.

He impales you all at once, your walls hugging him tightly as he sits inside completely. You mumble your curses against the ground, your tears staining your face and mixing in with the dirt. You feel his clothed chest press against your back, his hot breath fanning over your skin and you grunt as he snaps his hips hard, jolting your body forward and crying when your arms are pulled from your invisible restraints.

“You may have forgotten who owns you, Little Mouse, but your body definitely remembers.” You feel his smirk against your skin, Loki pulling his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock in your cunt before thrusting back harshly, a cry of pain retching from your throat as he begins to fuck you at a brutal pace.

Your fingers curl against the dirt, your body rigid as you take on his wicked punishment. You keep your eyes forward, orbs locked onto the longboat and you feel all hope leave you when it sails away, your only chance of freedom slipping from your grasp.

You close your eyes. You’re not there. You’re on the boat, floating freely toward another land where Loki cannot find you. But such thoughts diminish and your attempt to remove your spirit from his clutches proves fruitless as the sound of slapping skin and his grunts invade your senses, tying you down completely to your reality.

Your walls flutter around his cock and you moan when he slides in deeper, the tip repeatedly ramming against the bundle of nerves hidden within. You’re panting and so is he, his hands pressing your pelvis down onto the ground, keeping your arse high for him and lifting his pelvis only to adjust his position and impaling you anew, feeling him fully once more as he takes everything from you.

His nails dig into your skin, the pain radiating throughout your body and you gasp when you feel the sudden pull at the pit of your stomach. You try to stop it, to not give him the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure despite his roughness, something you could have control over. But his fingers find your sacred bud once more, rubbing it in accord with his thrusts.

“You’re mine, Little Mouse.” He growls as he bends over you once again, his raven hair curtaining around yours and you cry when he adds pressure to the nub.

The dam within you breaks and a silent scream is pulled from your lips, Loki following suit, his groans of pleasure bouncing off the bushes and the trees as his essence mixes with yours. You slump unto the ground, tears falling afresh, and you whimper when he rolls his pelvis against your thighs, keeping himself snug inside.

“You are nothing without me.” He whispers when he leans down once more, his voice licking against the shell of your ear. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see his emeralds piercing through your soul.

“Everything that you are is mine.” He says menacingly, trepidation filling your heart as he presses a kiss on your dirtied cheek, sealing your fate with finality.

The merriment in the banquet hall fills your ears as you follow Loki from behind. The necklace he’s given you has now turned into a metal collar around your neck, a long chain shackled at the middle with the end held tightly in Loki’s grasp.

You try to steer away from the direction of the Yule celebration, not wanting to have people witness your state of disarray. But Loki tugs on the chain harshly, having you bump against him and you bow your head, casting your eyes to the ground as you follow him with reluctance back into the hall.

The silence that casts throughout the crowd is deafening and the gasps coming from the lips of the witnesses bare down on you, making you want to disappear even more. Your clothes are a wreck, the fabric ripped from your struggles with Loki on the ground. Dirt and mud cling to your skin, and you don’t doubt that your binds are the most prominent in their eyes.

There is no evidence left on Loki’s form, using his magic to cleanse him from his brutality and presenting himself as the regal prince the Asgardians know him to be. He brings you with him to the high table, the prince reclaiming his seat beside his brother, and all at once the merriment resumes, laughter and music echoing in the great hall.

“You really know how to put on a spectacle, brother.” The king, Thor, booms at Loki’s side. You grunt when he tugs you closer, Loki’s arm snaking around your waist to have you sit at the arm of his chair.

You don’t look up but you sense the king’s lingering gaze on your dirtied form and you don’t doubt that he’s known of his brother’s lecherous deeds toward you since the beginning.

“I am simply reminding the little mouse of her place.” Loki intones and you look up when he grabs your chin and tilts your head back, forcing you to meet his emerald eyes. “Isn’t that right, pet?” You see the threat in them and you acquiesce to his words.

“Yes, my prince.”

The words given to me were Christmas Gala, necklace and Asgard!Loki. I used Yule instead of gala since I wasn’t sure if gala is used in the world of Asgard. And this is dedicated to @fictive-sl0th. I know it’s not your usual Christmas fic but I hope you enjoyed!

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfic #dark loki #dark!loki #dark fic #the great escape #secret santa fic #coconut bun stories

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psychospore · 1 year

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Challenging a god

A/N: this is crazy.. and absolutely filthy.. I'm dead.. I'm sorry in advance 🫣🫣🫣

If you like more Loki fics, check out my Masterlist

Summary: you challenged Loki and the god was obliged to answer.

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, orgy (somehow - it's all Loki and reader), really rough sex, a bit dark, implied consent, bukkake, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingering, etc..

-----

You saw Loki from across the party, seemingly disinterested - fiddling a glass of Asgardian mead with his long slender fingers as you walked towards him.

"you know, you can have better use of those fingers" you cooed in his ears, slightly making him flinch as he draws his gaze towards your low cut dress.

"oh darling, do you really wish to know so bad?" He responded

"hmmm.. depends, I might need something.. way bigger.." you answered staring at the growing bulge from his crotch.

"Well, if you must insist, I -" he stopped as you cut him off

"but you can't possibly fill all the void that aches, darling" pouting at him.

"we can work around that, love" he smirked in response to your challenge, menacing thoughts brewing inside his mind, evident on his well-chiseled face.

Little did you know, it was a challenge you would have a difficult time conquering in the face of a powerful god.

He brought you back to his hotel room. Hard, passionate kisses peppered you as he locked the door behind him. His cock strains against the fabric as he brushes it on your thighs. He aggressively ripped the dress along with the flimsy thong you wore in you as he threw you on top of the soft bed of the hotel. You lie there in all your nakedness. As your pussy pools with a wetness, you clenched your thighs.

You stared at him in eagerness as you wait for him to take you then and there in a slow and passionate sex but Loki has other plans. He conjured a silk fabric and wrapped it around your eyes and he flips you on all fours.

"what.. a-are you d-doing?" you protested.

"isn't it you who challenged me to fill your carnal desires, pet? To have your aching holes filled by my glorious cock? Prepare for some thorough fucking, darling" he declared.

Before you could answer, he stuffed your mouth with his cock, the scent of his musk filling your nostrils as you tried not to choke on his huge member. He grabs you by the hair as he slowly pushes himself further down to your throat. You obediently suck his cocks as his pushes himself in and out of you, moans of pleasure coming from his mouth as he unloads himself with hot, thick fluid down your throat before pulling out. You lick the dripping cum for the corners of your mouth before he shoves himself back to you again.

This time you felt another hand from behind you, toying with your slick folds, gently rubbing your clit as you spread your legs wider in response. He conjured a clone to pleasure you. You felt his hands slowly teasing the inside of your pussy for a bit before his clone slithers underneath you. The tip of his clone's cock slowly eased into you until he bottoms out. Your moans reverberate as his thrusts steadily to fill you - your mouth and cunt filled by the god's gigantic cock.

It was not enough for Loki though, another clone was conjured, teasing your tight asshole with his fingers and slapping your ass cheeks red before shoving its cock inside, stretching you to your limit. Your mind went blank from all the sensations you're feeling. All three Lokis simultaneously have their way with you, filling your filthy holes as they thrust themselves inside you.

You rolled your eyes back as a huge wave of orgasm crashed into you, screaming Loki's name. You felt your wetness drip towards the Loki underneath you. They responded by cumming inside all of your holes in succession, but not pulling out for one bit.

Still not enough for Loki, he positions you to free both of your hands from holding onto the bed. You don't know how many more he conjured as you grasp two throbbing cocks on each hand to pleasure with, pulsing up and down. Alternating with the cock on your mouth to suck on, and swallowing each of their loads as they unceremoniously cum one after another. Loads of cum managed to land on your face, on your back, and inside all of your holes overflowing and dripping all over - it's intoxicating scent furthering your sex-drunkeness. You have resigned to your fate as this god's personal cum bucket.

You felt 2 mouths latching onto your breasts, lots of hands roaming around your body, occasionally teasing all your sweet spots and sending you wave after wave of shuddering orgasm. Your legs almost gave out but Loki supported your body to take all of him all at once. Not an inch of your body was left untouched nor smeared by the god's continuous ejaculation.

You have failed to count how many times you or Loki came from all of this nor how long time ultimately passed - your mind was too broken to think straight but you're sure you positively won't be able to use your legs after.

In a final wave of release, Loki's whole body shuddered as his clones vanished in a wave of seidr. Covered in sweat, tears, and cum, you slumped down in defeat. Unable to move your muscle from exhaustion, Loki removes the fabric from your eyes. You were a filthy mess, a mess the Loki made for you, to you.

"sweet pet, this is what happens when you dare challenge a god" he mockingly whispers in your ears before he magically dresses himself and exits the room.

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

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Treasure Hunt [Dom!Loki x Fem. Reader Drabble] 18+

A LINK TO MY MASTERLIST IS HERE Summary: Just a Sinday treat based on @lokislilkitten sending this and my subsequent rambling. A continuation of that rambling. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Dom! Loki. Smut vibes. Sexual tension. Language. Dirty Talk. Implied threat. Implied BDSM. (w/c: 700)

"A minute? That doesn't sound very... fair" you gasped, as Loki peeled the thin cardigan from your shoulders. He loomed behind you, heavy boots thumping against ancient wood as he re-positioned himself at your back.

"Fair?" he chuckled darkly, teeth grazing against your bare skin. Loki placed a sucking kiss against the needy flesh; his hands pulling your hips roughly towards him. "Who said anything about 'fair'?"

Your eyes roamed around the gloom of the manor house ballroom where he had whisked you under the cover of night, a shiver running down your spine.

Dust floated on the air from where your captor’s forceful entrance had disturbed it. A wide cracked mirror hung on the wall, the ornate carvings tarnished by time and neglect. It teased you with the speckled, shadow marred image of a leather-clad figure encasing you in the darkness, his face concealed by a flank of dark curls. “There will be a series of challenges for you to complete in order to gain your...freedom” he rumbled, kissing a path of ownership up the nape of your neck. “There are clues in place, but also.... distractions.” “Distractions?” Your voice quivered as his fingers looped around the flimsy straps of your silk nightdress. “Mmmm...” he hummed, “a veritable army of distractions bent on dissuading you from achieving your ultimate release.” Piecing together the information in your mind, you analysed the situation. You had a minute’s head start on Loki. While you searched for a golden key hidden somewhere in the manor from a series of clues he had hidden in every room, he would taunt you. He would hunt you. His ‘distractions’ sounded an awful lot like duplicates. Illusions. Your aching pussy clenched in anticipation as a shudder rolled across your limbs. They would single-handedly ruin you. Each and every one. How many of them there would be, you couldn't say. There must be dozens of sprawling rooms in this crumbling pile of bricks, forgotten by time. Your gaze fluttered to a table in the corner as Loki's fingers grazed your nipples through the silk, laden with familiar instruments of dark pleasures. Handcuffs. Plugs. Paddles. Chains. Clamps...every piece carefully selected from Loki's private collection for tonight's event. You watched as one by one they disappeared from the tattered cloth, absorbed to the hands of an illusion waiting for you somewhere in the dark corners beyond. In every shadow, in every stairwell. “I don’t think I need to tell you what they will do should they ensnare you, pet” he chuckled dryly, the low timbre of his voice seeping into every thick atom of the musty air. Your core pulsed with hot blood, his domination edging your wavering compliance to the brink. “They will ruin you, devastate you...in every way. Their little plaything. How long they have waited for you. How they will enjoy pulling every whimpering, pathetic orgasm from your needy cunt as you beg them for salvation.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled your ass tight to his crotch, his thick cock rubbing through the hard leather. “I must warn you; they are not known for their...sympathy.” “If they can catch me, you mean” you stuttered, bravery taking you by surprise as Loki’s fingers paused the descent of your nightdress past your breasts. “If?” he laughed, the vibrations of his leather tunic thundering against your ribs.

“Such naivety in you my sweet, fragile flower. Tis’ almost a pity. I suppose I should relish it... while it lasts.” Beyond the carved double doors of the ballroom, the broken chimes of an untuned piano hauntingly soared. “See, flower?” Loki leant close, his warm breath fanning your ear while your silk nightdress pooled around your bare feet. “They are eager for the games to begin. We mustn’t keep them waiting.” The god’s palms ran up your naked arms, feeling every hair standing erect against the cool skin. He inhaled against the curve of your neck, a low moan rumbling in his throat, saturated with torturous lust. “Are you ready for your first clue?” Loki murmured. You nodded, the wetness sliding between your thighs betraying your excitement at his theatrical display. “Run.” he growled, a cruel smile spreading across his lips as you darted towards the curved staircase and the unknown beyond it. 💀 Tags @lokischambermaid @daggers-and-mischief @wheredafandomat @mochie85 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @fictive-sl0th @lokislilkitten @maple-seed @peacefulpianist @simplyholl @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @cakesandtom @lokikissesmyforehead @mischief2sarawr @thomase1 @sinsandguilt @joyful-enchantress @wolfsmom1 @xorpsbane @lokiprompts @lady-rose-moon @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @mcufan72 @ravenwings73 @yelkmelk @demoiseller @sititran @123forgottherest @fictional-hooman @anonymousfiction211 @nerdy-fangirl-65 @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @peaches1958 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mad4marvelloki @mischief2sarawr @yokshi-unbeliebubble @thesinsoflust @animnerd @trickster-maiden @ladymischief11

#loki smut #lokismut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #dom loki #dom loki sub reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki drabble #dark loki

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darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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The Sticking Point Masterlist

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

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

#loki #regency au #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers #au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, 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: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her.

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched.

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go.

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command.

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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lokisarium · 5 months

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gothic Loki ♡

#loki #gothic loki #victorian gothic #aicreation #mjgallery #his wrists could be the reason for future war between galaxies #dark loki #pale loki #og loki

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

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Series Masterlist

Completed

The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au)

Synopsis : After a traumatic horrifying incident occurs, you pack your life up and move to a remote island with a population of just above a hundred people. You buy a strange house, bizzare incidents happen and a handsome English neighbor instantly catches your eye. What would happen when the place you thought of as an escape would only end up entrapping you in it?

Warning: 18 + There will be smut, mention of abuse and violence, dark themes

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 22 Chapter 23 (Last)

Epilogue

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Pic credit @millennium-h

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki x reader au #loki au fics #dark loki #dark themes #loki horror au #horror romance

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shadeysprings · 8 months

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Bored

— Loki x F!Reader

100-word drabble

Warnings — fingers at play, noncon/dubcon undertones.

You stop his hand when you feel it creep up your thigh underneath the table.

He digs his nails into your flesh. You hide your wince and pull your hand back, allowing him to reach further, fingers tickling your inner thigh.

“You know better than to stop me, pet.” He scolds under his breath, hand clenching against the table when he cups your sex.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be forgiven once I’m sated.”

You bite your lip when you feel his digits brush against your panties, moving them to the side, suppressing a moan when he rubs slowly against your clit.

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #dark loki #dark!loki #loki drabble #bored #100 word drabble #shadeysprings fics

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holymultiplefandomsbatman · 1 year

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Deal With The Devil [Dark!Loki x Reader]

Dom Loki x sub gn!reader

Summary: Your kingdom has fallen into chaos. In your desperation, you request aid from the only ruler powerful enough to help you. But Loki is difficult to convince...

Words: 885

Warnings: 18+ themes; power play, manipulative Loki

A contribution to the Winter Warmers Collection by the amazing @lokisgoodgirl

This is inspired by the song Church by Fall Out Boy. I’m working on a sub!Loki fic with similar vibes.

main masterlist (more Loki stuff)

The heavy doors fell shut behind you. The loud bang vibrated in your bones.

For a second you just stood there, taking in the extravagance of Asgard’s throne room. Golden pillars, exquisite decorations along the walls that shimmered in the candle light. Nothing could compare.

Especially not the room used by the king’s family back home, which rather served as a business room for anything important. The king even sometimes used the room as his study. It was nothing like this.

“Tell me, little mortal. What brings you to my realm?”

Your eyes snapped towards the throne. The figure sitting on top of it was the very essence of what you’d describe as royalty. Golden armor, a majestic golden helmet with horns on top of messy black hair and a golden staff.

Despite everything, it was his eyes that brought you to your knees. You bowed respectfully before the throne, your gaze fixed on the floor.

“Your Highness, I have come to ask for your aid. My kingdom has been ravaged by war, hunger and poverty. I fear we won’t survive another winter.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for him to speak. Even your breathing was too loud against the silence that settled heavily on your shoulders.

The echo of heavy steps thundered through the throne room. Your eyes remained fixed on the floor.

A firm hand gripped your chin and tilted your head up.

“And what would you gain from this alliance, little mortal?”

His deep voice made you shiver, just as much as the stare from his blue eyes. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“Your Highness, I am but a simple human trying to avoid the certain death of my people. I fear you are the only one with the power to save them.”

Something flashed in his eyes. You could see an emotion almost like recollection or empathy on his face. It only lasted for a second before he raised his head, letting go of your chin.

“And what would I gain from helping you?”

You looked back at the floor. “An ally. In case you ever have any issues on Midgard, or you were in the middle of a war yourself.”

That was rich and you knew it. Your kingdom was small, it definitely didn’t possess enough influence or military strength to help a realm as mighty as Asgard if the situation arose. Not by a long shot.

It didn’t matter; you were desperate. You had to save your people.

His deep laughter shook you right down to your bones.

“Lying to me isn’t wise for someone in your position, little mortal.”

Your breath hitched. His voice had dropped to a deeper pitch, dark and threatening. It rested on your shoulders, pressing you even further to the floor.

“Your Highness, I can assure you –“

He forced your head up once more. His grip was stronger now, long fingers digging painfully into your skin. The burning stare from his blue eyes made the words die on your tongue.

“I am not some simple mortal. I am a King; a God. You’d do wisely to address me as such.”

You couldn’t look away from him. His hand held your head steady and you found yourself caged in by his grip and his stare. You nodded.

“Yes… my King.”

The words tasted strange in your mouth. Yet they felt right, especially when the expression on his face changed. He smiled at you, not losing any of his authority and power. Quite the opposite: his smile only increased it.

“Very good. Now tell me: what would I truly gain from helping you? I know your kingdom well; you have greatly exaggerated its influence and power. If I were ever in a similar position, your meek army would be of no use to me.”

Fear gripped your heart, drenching your whole body in ice. You inhaled sharply. If he didn’t help you, your kingdom and everyone in it would be doomed…

“Anything, my King. Anything you want, it’s yours!”

His eyebrows rose as he looked at you. He released your chin.

This time you didn’t look away. You kneeled at his feet, staring up at him with desperate eyes. You’d give him anything you had, if he only saved your kingdom.

His cold stare slowly became warmer as he smiled; but just like before, the dominant aura remained.

“Anything, you say?”

The almost playful tone sent a shiver down your spine but you didn’t allow yourself to falter as you looked into his eyes. The fate of your kingdom depended on your success.

“Yes, my King. Anything you want.”

He stared down at you in silence, his eyes burning into the very essence of your being.

Your heart stumbled in your chest as he slowly leaned down until his face was almost level with yours.

“Well, little mortal… what if I want you?”

Your knees buckled.

He observed you in silence, his eyes roaming across your body as he waited for your response. That infuriating smile hadn’t left his lips. His stare hypnotized you.

You swallowed hard, accepting your demise.

“Then you shall have me, my King.”

The words had barely left your lips when he leaned in and sealed your fate with a passionate yet gentle kiss.

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