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cleo-fox · 10 months ago

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Conquer

Part 1 of 5

Series Masterlist

Summary: The king intends to take a bride.

You just never thought it would be you.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)

I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).

The king intends to take a bride.

At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.

You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.

You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.

The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.

Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.

But you don’t know any of that yet.

You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.

The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.

You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.

As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.

You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.

You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.

He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.

And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.

You swallow hard. No. Not him.

Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.

Fucking hell.

The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.

Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.

You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.

You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.

The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.

You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.

The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.

Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.

You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.

The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.

You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.

You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.

You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.

You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.

“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”

You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.

You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.

He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.

“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”

You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.

“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.

“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.

“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”

You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.

“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.

It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.

“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”

“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”

“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not.”

You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”

Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”

You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”

His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.

“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.

“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”

For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”

You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.

You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.

He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.

He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.

You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.

You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”

He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”

Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.

“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.

His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”

You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”

You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.

“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”

You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.

“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”

It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.

You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.

He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”

Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.

There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.

It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.

He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.

Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.

“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.

“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.

“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.

He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.

“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”

“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.

He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”

His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.

He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.

“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”

“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.

“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”

You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.

“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.

You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.

This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.

“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.

“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.

“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.

You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.

You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”

He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.

Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.

Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.

His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.

“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.

He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”

Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.

“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”

He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.

He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.

Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.

“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.

“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”

He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.

He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).

But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.

He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.

You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.

He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.

You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.

“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.

You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.

There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.

Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.

You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.

“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.

“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.

“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.

“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.

“Please fuck me.”

You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.

There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.

He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.

It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.

But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.

He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.

And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.

“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”

You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.

“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”

You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.

You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.

“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.

But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.

And again.

Fuck.

Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.

“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.

You whimper, your back arching.

“Give into it. Let me feel you.”

One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.

“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.

It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.

Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.

“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.

“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”

Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.

You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.

His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.

You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.

You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.

You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.

But also…it feels nice.

It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.

You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.

Be angry.

His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.

Be angry.

You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.

Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.

“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.

“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.

Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?

He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.

You scowl at the thought.

“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”

“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.

“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”

And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.

Next chapter

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut

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gruftiela · 1 month ago

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Professor Hiddleston is not happy with you chatting along with your bestie in his Shakespeare class and wants to see you in his office after class. 📚 Oh boy!

@loki-cees-all @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokisgoodgirl @glitchquake @cleo-fox @liminalpebble @latent-thoughts @loopsisloops @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @unicorn-of-mischief @insanityclause @infinitystoner @oswildin @peachyjinx @perseephoneee @sserpente @shiningloki @gigglingtiggerv2 @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @kikster606 @caffiend-queen @viv-annelore @vbecker10 @villainousshakespeare @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @michelleleahhh

#professor Hiddleston #sas #our mango which art on asgard #tom hiddelston

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sarahscribbles · 2 years ago

Note

bc we were talking about it: imagine Loki setting a gentle, slow pace, but when begged for more he just says "You'll take what I give you, sweet girl."

bye! 🫠

I hope this doesn't disappoint!

Loki Masterlist

Drabble requests are OPEN

You’re not even dozing when the sheets rumple and the mattress dips beneath you. The familiar scent immediately envelops you - cedarwood, mint, and something subtly sweet.

Loki.

You stir beneath the covers, turning over in your cotton cocoon to reach for him. It’s been too long since you touched him, an entire week, and it’s bliss to feel him firm and solid and safe beneath your fingertips.

“Missed you,” you murmur quickly against his lips, not wanting to waste a second on words; they aren’t needed, you just need him.

“And I you, treasure of my heart,” Loki replies, claiming your lips in a kiss so passionate that you feel dizzy.

You melt back into the mess of pillows and bedclothes, sighing contentedly when Loki follows. His thumbs are tracing circles on your outer thighs, but slowly his hands slide over your hips to grip your waist, and he’s toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

It’s enough for you to know he’s asking for your permission - permission he’ll have as long as the sun keeps spinning- and you answer with a roll of your hips against his.

The shorts are tossed to the side in a flurry of limbs and desperate kisses, followed quickly by your shirt and, in a gentle flash of green seidr, Loki’s battle leather. Your hands find their home on his back instantly, running longingly over the ripples of muscles that flexed with each minute movement.

Your lover.

Your prince.

Your god.

“You’re so beautiful,” you breath out against his mouth, letting your eyes flutter open to lock with his.

Green irises glitter at you even in the half darkness of the room, and he answers by leaning down to give a sharp nip to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Whatever teasing reply was half forming on your tongue is lost when you feel Loki begin to ease himself into you, inch by beautiful inch until you can take no more of him, until his body is pressed firmly against yours. He releases a shuddering breath when he's fully seated inside you, and the groan that floats from your own lips is sinful enough that you can feel his cock twitch inside you.

How is he yours?

“Every night I dreamed of this perfect little cunt,” he rasps in your ear, his movements tortuously slow. You want rough and eager, you want him to fuck you so hard that words become impossible.

But he doesn’t. He’s slow and gentle and teasing. Doing nothing more than grinding into your cunt as if he plans to drag this out all night. You can feel every ever ridge and vein pull against your walls and you inhale every time he pulls out - expecting his resolve to finally break.

But it doesn't, and he fills you up again just as slowly as before.

It’s infuriating. It’s intoxicating.

It doesn’t take look until you’re arching into him, your soft whines of protest earning another nip of his teeth to your neck. “Loki…please. I need more. Please.”

He licks a light stripe along the column of your neck and finishes with a sharp bite to your ear lobe. “You’ll take what I give you, sweet girl,” he taunts with another agonisingly slow thrust. “And I plan to savour this for hours.”

Tags: @infinitystoner @cake-writes @kinky-faerie @muddyorbsblr @lunarnights95 @fandxmslxt69 @joyful-enchantress @goddessofwonderland @liminalpebble @ladyofthestayingpower @currish-rosewolfe @loopsisloops @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @simplyholl @mochie85 @littlespaceyelf

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki imagine

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mochie85 · 2 years ago

Note

hi! congrats on 1000! 🍾💚

angsty/fluffy drabble inspired by prompt #26 (“I can’t stand not talking to you”) and this gif?

Midsummer Pining

1K Masterlist One-shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: It's summer in Asgard and you and your brother, Hogun, have come to stay with the royal family for the season before you are presented to society. A/N: Part of my 1K celebration. I wanna give a shout-out to @shadeysprings for helping me BETA and giving me ideas on how to finish. Also, a shout-out to @michelleleewise for letting me bounce ideas back and forth. And a big thank you to @infinitystoner for sending in the request! Pairing: Asgard!Loki x Vanaheim!Female Reader Word Count: 4,542 (it's a long one) Warnings: Fluff, angst Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The heat from Asgard’s sun was piercing. These were rare days indeed when the temperature outside was too sweltering to do anything but laze about.

You had followed your brother, Hogun, from Vanaheim for the summer. You had done so every summer since you were young. This was the first year when your parents hadn’t accompanied either of you. They thought that Hogun was old enough to watch out for the well-being of his younger sister.

And you were horrified to find out that they were correct. Hogun had not left your side since you arrived. Only having privacy when you retired to your quarters for the night. It made things especially difficult to garner the attention of the younger prince of Asgard.

Ever since you started visiting the palace as children, you had always stayed with Loki. At first, it was because the two of you were younger compared to the other children. They would lump the two of you together while they played soldiers or other activities. But then Loki started seeking you out. Showing you tricks with his seidr that the Allmother had shown him.

You were instantly besotted with him. How could you not? A magical prince who sought out your company? Any young girl would fall head over heels. And you’ve been falling ever since.

You thought that since this was the first summer without your parent’s supervision, you would have the courage to confess your feelings towards Loki, once and for all.

However, you weren’t the only one seeking his attention. Other ladies of the court had decided that this was the season to try and catch themselves a royal match. You’ve been hesitant and non-too eager to fight for his attention. Only offering it up when he sought you out. Especially under the watch of your overbearing brother.

You missed him. You missed your best friend in the palace. The one who would spend hours just creating life-like images to make you smile. The one you would sneak into the sculleries with for a sweet treat. You missed your riding partner in the early mornings before breakfast. Just the quiet solitude of the two of you.

“Brother, you’re worse than an old nursemaid,” you said one morning as he escorted you from your quarters.

“What do you mean? I am only looking out for my younger, most cherished sister.”

“You are scaring off everyone. Even mother would let me off to play with Loki. You wouldn’t even let me give my best friend a hug when we arrived.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is? Afraid that I’m getting in the way of your little romance?”

“You tease me! Take that back!”

“Mother and father have charged me with your care, and I take that responsibility seriously. Just because they are not here does not mean you can do whatever you wish.”

“All I wish is to have my friend back. Surely, you’ve missed out on trips with the others just by watching me. You cannot be having as pleasant of a time as you ought to be.” You avowed. You knew you struck a chord when Hogun’s eyes marginally widened, and a quiet hum left his throat.

“Do you not think I am capable of watching myself? Just one day, brother. I will show you there is nothing to worry about and that I will behave as a well-raised young lady should.”

“Alright. One day. Today,” he finally relented. You jumped up and down excitedly. Already making plans of what you and Loki would be doing today. “And I do think you’re capable, sister. I trust you. It’s the others I don’t trust.”

“Spoken like a true parent. Now go on! Go be with your friends. I will join you for supper later.” You practically pushed your brother away as he smiled and hurried along toward Thor and the warriors.

You found Loki in the dining hall, breaking his fast along with Lady Bisley. She was animatedly talking to Loki as he tried to enjoy his food. Loki didn’t look too enthused about having to spend his morning entertaining one of his mother’s friend’s daughters.

“Your Highness,” you called behind him.

“Ah, Lady Grimm. How wonderful it is to see you.” He greeted you with a hopeful smile and a side eye towards Lady Bisley.

“Her Majesty, your mother, requested I retrieve you. It seems she had something urgent to speak to you about.”

“Well, there you have it. Excuse me, Lady Bisley,” Loki stood up and bowed as he hurriedly excused himself from her presence. You curtseyed and followed a couple of steps behind him, watching his fingers run through his hair. He rounded the corner and you followed steadily, not wanting to attract attention.

As soon as you walked around the corner, Loki grabbed your wrist and pulled you hurriedly along the corridors. Soft giggles and peals of laughter could be heard as you ran past servants. You escaped into the back gardens of the castle and Loki didn’t stop running until you both got behind the gardener’s shed.

You laughed and panted as you tried catching your breath. Loki looked at you with a knowing gaze. “Thank you for saving me from that droning harpy,” he breathed as he steadied himself.

“Saved you? The Allmother really is looking for you Loki,” you spoke. Loki stood up promptly with a worried look on his face. “I jest! I jest!” you laughed when he tried to make his way back to the palace.

Loki’s face fell at having fallen for your trick but soon started laughing with you. He tucked a strand of your hair back behind your ear and soon the heat from the summer weather couldn’t compare to what you felt inside.

It’s now or never, you thought. “Actually, Loki, there is something that I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What is it, darling?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the shed. He held your hand in his as he pulled you closer to him. “Your hair is untamable,” he laughed placing another strand behind your ear. “The same spirit as you I suppose,” he said smiling, making your heart race. You couldn’t look him in the eyes any longer. His stare made you weak in the knees.

“I’ve grown fond of you, Loki. And not just in a friendly way, but more…intimately.” You annunciated the syllables slowly. The word ticking off your tongue.

His fingers paused behind your ear. He looked straight into your eyes but yours were downcast. A pointed silence hung in the air and you were tempted to look up at him, but you couldn’t. You didn’t dare see the mocking expression he might have at the news of your affection.

“Intimately?” he repeated. “As in, romantically? Darling, we’ve known each other for years. You’ve been my best friend…”

“I know, Loki. And all this time…”

“All this time?” he questioned. His voice rose a few octaves. All this time he could’ve been closer to you. He could’ve held you the way he longed to. All this time…you could’ve been his. “Why now?”

Why now after your brother had specifically told him at the beginning of the season to stay away from you? That your parents wished for you to find a suitor. Why couldn’t it have been him? The timing of it all made him angry at the situation he found himself in.

His questioning wasn’t anything you were prepared for. At best, you dreamt that he would kiss you, take you in his arms, and profess his love for you too. At worst, you dreaded that he would mock you and your feelings and pretend to ignore you for the rest of your time here. But this? This was unexpected. Was he angry with you? Was this his way of saying he wasn’t interested?

You took your hands back from him quickly. “I apologize, your highness. I see now that I have overstepped my bounds. Forgive me. It was all a jest.” You hurriedly said and turned to run away.

Your chest hurt. Your breathing was sharp and painful as you ran the distance back to the palace. Loki called out your name behind you, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t stop. You didn’t want him to see the fresh tears falling down your cheek. The same cheek that had burned from his touch on your skin moments ago.

As Hogun escorted you to the dining hall for supper, you noticed the wide smile on his face. “I’m glad you had fun with your friends today, brother.”

“I did. All thanks to your persistence,” he answered back. “I heard that you’ve been busy yourself, today.”

“Y-you have?”

“I heard from the servants you’ve been running around the palace. Is this a game you’ve been playing with His Highness?”

You’ve been successfully hiding from Loki since this morning. Managing to slip by him only seconds before he entered a room. He was relentless in his pursuit of you. Which scared you even more. The last thing you needed was his wrath coming down on you.

“No. I think he has outgrown our childhood relationship. I had not been with him all day.” You said dejectedly. Hogun detected a hint of sadness in your voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps you might want to spend time with us for a while. I know Lady Sif has been asking for an opponent worth her time. I know no better mace-wielder than you.”

“Not even His Royal Highness, Thor?” You lightheartedly spoke.

“I might be a little biased.” Hogun smiled and he squeezed your hand. You entered the dining hall to find Loki surrounded by several members of the court. Ladies dressed as if they were in a grand ball, all vying for his attention. He was talking indifferently about something, looking agitated and wanting better company.

You looked away, not wanting to see it anymore. He always loved being the center of attention. He was getting that now from others. He didn’t need you tagging along with him.

Loki looked up at the sound of joyous laughter from the opposite end of the room. Thor and his friends welcomed you and Hogun to the table. He quickly excused himself from the menagerie of coifed women and made his way over to the table.

“Brother!” Thor yelled in a booming voice. “Sit, sit. Look who has also joined us?” Thor said pointing to you. You tried to keep your discomfort to a minimum as you felt Loki sit by your side. You felt trapped, now that you couldn’t run away. The scent of his cologne lingered towards you, tempting you to look in his direction.

“You’ve been so popular with the court ladies ever since Father announced your eligibility last year, Loki.” Thor started.

“Yes, pretty soon you’ll have more admirers than Fandral himself,” Volstagg teased.

“Didn’t you debut this year?” Sif asked you.

“Not yet, but I will. On my birthday later this year. As is the tradition in our family.” You cleared your throat. “I am to travel around the realms in the meantime, in hopes of catching someone’s eye. Like bait, apparently.” You said that last sentence as a whisper, more to yourself. But the group had heard it, nonetheless.

“Oh, but you’ll make beautiful bait,” Fandral teased.

“Yes, make all the other baits jealous,” Volstagg added making everyone, including you, laugh.

“Has anyone caught your eye, dear Lady Grimm?” Thor asked. Your cheeks heated. You opened and closed your mouth, not knowing how to answer.

“Darling, would you like to go riding with me tomorrow morning? You know, for old time’s sake.” Loki asked next to you. His voice snapped you out of your pondering.

You answered without looking at him, “Unfortunately your highness, I had promised Lady Sif that we would train together tomorrow morning.”

“We are?” Sif questioned aloud. You raised your eyebrow and looked at her decidedly. “Yes, we are!” She agreed.

“Perhaps, afterward?” Loki tried again.

“I’m afraid I might be too fatigued for good company, your highness.”

“It’s Loki. You’ve never been so formal with me before,” he joked. “And that will be perfect. We could sit in the library, and I could show you some of the newer volumes we’ve acquired.”

“Regrettably, I’ve already seen them earlier today, your highness…”

“It’s Loki,” he asserted once again, a slight irritation showing on his face. You nodded and looked away, slightly agitated. The rest of the group could feel the tension between the two of you. You and Loki were as thick as thieves, and they had never witnessed either of you at odds with each other.

“I apologize, your majesties. I seem to have overwhelmed myself today. I think I’ll retire early tonight. If you’ll excuse me,” you asked standing, looking straight at Thor who gave you a confused nod.

“Let me escort you back, milady.” Loki offered, standing.

“No, please. Stay and enjoy your time…with the others. I’m sure they can offer you far better company than I could.” You left quickly without seeing Loki’s eyes. Without having once looked up.

“What have you done to my sister?” Hogun stood up and faced Loki.

“Me?! Why do you assume it was my fault?” Loki fired back.

“Was it her fault?” Fandral asked pointing to where you had escaped.

“We’ve never seen the two of you argue before. It’s quite unsettling.” Volstagg said.

“Oh, I am so sorry to have put you off your third helping,” Loki provoked. “And if anyone’s to blame for her demeanor it should be you, Hogun. I’ve done exactly as you’ve asked and kept my distance from her this season and look at where it’s gotten us.”

“Hogun!” Sif rebuked him. “They are best friends. How could you ask him to do that?”

“That’s exactly why I asked. She doesn’t see anybody but you, Loki.” Hogun said pointing to him. “And if she was to have any agreeable match, she needs to start seeing who else might be available.”

“So the second prince of Asgard is not good enough for a noble lady of Vanaheim, is that it?” Loki yelled out loud.

“Loki, that is not what Hogun said.” Thor cautioned.

“Are you more than just friends, Loki? Are you ready to break that cycle, possibly ruin your friendship forever with her if it doesn’t work out between you two?” Hogun asked earnestly.

Loki huffed, an internal struggle brewing in his thoughts. “If you are not sincere in your affection toward my sister, then I don’t think you should be around her,” Hogun concluded.

Loki left in a seething rage. How dare they insinuate that he didn’t care about you. Of course, he cared about you! Of course, he thought about what would happen if you two ever got together. It’s been plaguing his mind since the first time he showed you his seidr and you looked at him like he gave you the world- in the palm of his hands. He couldn’t risk the wonderful friendship that you two had on a fleeting romance. Because that’s all it would ever be, wouldn’t it? Fleeting? All his thoughts and worries finally came to light, and it hurt that he couldn’t talk to his best friend about it.

The two of you stayed away from each other for the rest of the summer. You threw yourself into training and reading. During supper, you ate with Lady Sif and The Warriors Three to stave off the loneliness you felt inside.

But it wasn’t enough, every now and then you would hear a loud uproar of laughter coming from a group of women and men. And at the center of it all, was Loki. He always had a group of people around him. You’ve even caught him arm-to-arm with a lady or two after supper as they disappeared into the dark hallways towards his chambers. It was clear that Loki did not return your affections. Nor did he require your attention anymore.

Loki had kept his distance from you, as agreed. But his eyes and thoughts couldn’t hold the same promise. Every night he would try to distract himself by having various company. Sometimes he would be in a room full of people, all having fun, but he would feel this ache in his heart. He could feel the lack of your presence.

The last night of the season was upon you. Tomorrow you would head to Midgard for a month before returning home to Vanaheim. You were laying in bed hoping that Loki would finally come to you, at least to say goodbye, but he hadn’t. And thus cemented the pain of having lost your best friend indefinitely.

“Are you happy to be home?” Hogun asked breathing in the fresh mountain air. You looked sullenly at the green canopy of the trees. The lush carpet of moss and grass at your horse’s feet. The once-bright colors of your home seem to have faded. Perhaps it was just the morning haze creeping in. But deep down you knew why the world lost its color for you.

“Don’t look so glum, sister. Soon the snow will start falling and Saturnalia will be with us once again. You’ve always loved that holiday.” Your lack of response worried Hogun.

“Your birthday will be here soon.” He tried again, hoping to break your glum reverie. “Then, you’ll finally be presented to society.” Your face had become even dourer as you were reminded that the only person you wanted to be with, didn’t want to be with you.

You galloped faster on your steed, hoping to hide the disappointment on your face from your brother. The small troupe you had traveled with went ahead and announced your return. You could see a small welcome in the front gardens along with many other servants preparing for your arrival.

You dismounted and handed your reigns over to the stable hand as you ascended the stairs to your home. “There she is! Welcome home, my darling girl!” Your father said as you stepped through the front foyer.

“Papa! I’ve missed you!” You said bounding into his arms and he gave you a big hug in return.

“I trust your brother has taken care of you.” He added holding you at arm’s length and taking you all in.

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “Where’s mama?”

Just then your mother walked in from the side garden, arm in arm with Loki. You silently gasped a lungful of air and stopped breathing. He was charming your mother as she laughed. His bright smile and gleaming eyes made him look achingly handsome.

“My dear! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” your mother said letting go of Loki’s arm and striding towards you to give you a hug. You had not taken your eyes off Loki. He had not taken his eyes off you either. What was he doing here?

“Milady,” Loki said nodding to you behind your mother. “I trust your journey was fruitful. Did you have a good time on Midgard?”

“I did. Thank you, your highness,” you replied back curtseying.

“What’s with you two?” your father pointed out. “You act as if you didn’t have centuries between you.”

Your mother just watched, all-knowing as she grabbed your father’s hand. “Dear, why don’t we give them time to catch up.” Your mother said as she led him further into the house.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, your grace?” you asked boldly.

“Thor and I are here for your birthday celebrations of course. We have been invited and are the official ambassadors from Asgard.” Loki said with a proud smile.

“Your presence is most welcome, your Highness.” You curtseyed again, refusing to look him in his eyes.

“Are we still doing that?”

“Doing what? Pray, tell?” you said through gritted teeth.

“Pretending, as your father said, that we don’t have centuries between us.” The audacity!

“Forgive me, your highness.” You curtsied again, barely containing your irritation. “How shall I act? Shall I just hang on to your every word? Simper over you like one of your debutantes in search of your match? Shall I giggle or bat my lashes in your presence? Perhaps then maybe I would be worthy of your attention.”

“Darling…”

“And now, is it not enough that you ignore me the entire season, but you decide to try and torture me IN MY OWN HOME…”

Loki kissed you.

He grabbed your face in between his hands and placed his lips over yours. Your eyes widened in shock as one of his hands traveled down to your hips, holding you in place. He smelled like sunlight and the peonies from your garden. He tasted like the berries growing from underneath your bedroom window. And he felt like…he felt like home.

You gave into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him tighter to you. His whole body visibly eased in your embrace. Settling into your arms and molding his body against yours.

“It was torture for me too. To have you so close and not be able to do anything about it,” he breathed as he placed his forehead to yours. “I can’t stand not talking to you. I’ve missed you so much. Every night, I’ve wanted to go to you. I would get as far as your door but stop short of knocking.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You, my darling, are a lot braver than I am. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But when you confessed your feelings towards me, I must admit I was angry. Not at you!” he tried to placate seeing your worried face.

“Your brother had expressed that I give you space to find yourself and to perhaps find a suitor. And you couldn’t do that if you were spending your days with your best friend. I was angry at the fact that I couldn’t be that for you. That no one thought I could be that for you. I wasn’t brave enough to stand up for you and my feelings.”

“My brother asked you to stay away?” You were filled with jumbled emotions. Excitement, shyness, anger, confusion. You held your hand against Loki’s face. The one face you longed to see every day. The one your heart ached for when you were apart.

“Loki I…” you started but stopped short when you heard Hogun enter the front foyer laughing animatedly with Thor.

“Awe, it looks like they made up! See, I told you it would all work out in the end!” Thor said clapping Hogun on the back of his shoulder.

Now it was your turn to be angry. “HOGUN!!!” You yelled turning to him.

Hogun knew that face. Your brows were slanted in anger, the fire in your eyes was fueled by wrath, and nothing could calm you down until you had gotten it out of your system. “You are lucky I do not possess the power to call forth my weapon like Thor can, or else I would make it go through YOUR HEAD!”

“I better…” Hogun started saying, backing out into the front steps again.

“Run.” You finished his sentence for him, chasing him out with a conjured mace, thanks to Loki.

“Loki, I don’t think you should have given her that,” Thor said to him as they watched you battle on the front lawn.

“Just look at her go,” Loki said in wonder. “She is breathtaking, is she not?”

It was the night of your birthday party, and the entire manor was in a flurry of chaos. Last-minute flowers were added to vases and servants were running around with large platters of petit fours. You had begged your mother not to go overboard. Her plans to introduce you to society were irrelevant now that Loki had come back into your life.

You were leaning against a pillar, your forehead on your arm, exhausted. “Mother, it’s just one night. All of this is ridiculous. I have already made my decision.”

“And it’s a good decision. But now the entire realm needs to know of it too. An announcement worthy of the Prince,” she concluded turning back to you.

But you had already disappeared. Loki had quietly grabbed your waist and led you down to the back gardens. As soon as you felt the cool breeze of the night sky, Loki grabbed your hands and ran, escaping the hurried frenzy of tonight’s activities.

He looked back at you, smiling. The skirts of your gown flitted in the air creating a cloud behind you. He stopped when you had reached the back stables, panting and looking to see if your mother had caught you.

You giggled into his arms. “Thank you,” you said as he wrapped himself around you. “I don’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss about it,” you whined. These stolen moments away from the prying eyes of your family were few and far between.

“Why stop them from celebrating you? I know I want to,” he said softly, taming your hair behind your ears. You smiled at him, reaching up for a stolen kiss.

“And that is all I require for my birthday. That is all I wish for. You and me.”

“Then you shall have it!” Loki proclaimed bowing formally to you. “I am Loki. Odinson. Prince of Asgard. God of mischief. And I offer myself as your birthday present.”

He looked up at you through the curtain of his lashes, a suggestive smile breaking through, making you bite your lip. “I shall be by your side the rest of the night. You and I, together.”

“Must we attend? Can’t we just lay here and watch the stars?” you said toying with the leather collar of his armor. “There are a multitude of other things we could be doing,” you teased.

Loki chuckled at your boldness. He pushed you against the wall of the stables and caged you within his embrace. “Shall I give you the rest of your present? Here? Now?” His body pressed hard against yours. You stretched your neck to look up at him and his devious eyes. He traced his nose along your temple. Down your cheek, towards your neck, inhaling your perfume.

You felt light-headed and awakened. As if your skin was inflamed. “Your birthday was traditionally set for you to be introduced into society. Let your parents introduce you…”

“But Loki-” you moaned.

“…as my intended.” He kissed your neck. Your pulse fluttered under his soft lips. “Don’t you want all the realms to know who you’ve chosen? Who has claimed your heart?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly.

“I give myself to you. Claim me and I shall do the same for you tonight.” He whispered his promise. One he seals with his teeth grazing against your skin.

"Lady Grimm!"

Both of you looked up at the sound of your name being called. It was your mother’s servant passing by as he sought you out.

“Save your first dance for me,” Loki said escorting you back towards the party.

“I’ll save all my dances for you,” you said as you pulled him along with you.

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine

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lifeinbrick · 2 years ago

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Time Heist: The Movie

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impact24pr · 1 year ago

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#EastContinentalGems #Marvel #MCU #InfinityStones #Gemstones #NYC #Youtube

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smolvenger · 2 years ago

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The King of Asgard (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: As the wife of Prince Loki of Asgard, you suddenly discover that Odin and Thor are gone. You are made queen and your dear husband is king. But a king needs an heir...

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: SMUT Y'ALL!!! 18+ Breeding Kink and Vanilla P in V sex and dirty talk. Some angst in the beginning but lots of hurt/comfort regarding his discovery about being a Frost Giant. Some married fluff. I use the canon events in Thor 1 but stretch out the timeline because it's my fic and I can do what I want. References to fairy tales because I'm a slut for literary references.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Since seeing Thor 1 in its completion this has been in my head. I don't usually write for the big man Loki himself too often- but it's a treat to do so! Maybe I will do more of this stuff if I get more ideas! REBLOGS, COMMENTS, DMS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED! Also, I don't know if Frigga is also Freya the goddess of love and sex in this universe when I wrote this but her character is clearly more FRIGGA than Freya...so yeah...mea culpa

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @littlespaceyelf @superficialdomina (since all the way back you asked to be tagged! Ta da! Here it is!!)

You had many regrets in your life. But marrying Prince Loki was not one of them. When he asked you, you threw your arms around him and kissed him repeating one word- “Yes!”

You never regretted the day you wore a jeweled veil and walked down that aisle. You never regretted vowing before all the gods that you were his and he was yours. You never regretted becoming Princess of Asgard. Not if it meant the love of your life could become your husband.

Some whispered that your choice was unusual. That it was the wrong prince. That you should have married Thor. After all, it seemed obvious he was going to be the heir. But things did not happen in your heart the way they did. Thor was jovial and friendly to you. But before your betrothal, he liked you as a sister. No more, no less. Even if Odin commanded it, Thor would object to the match. If Thor learned to reign in his arrogance someday, you thought, he would make a fine lover to some lucky person!

Other than being the most beautiful man you had ever beheld, Loki was intelligent. Full of elegance as well as guile. Well-read, polite, patient, and charming, but could hold his own in any battle. It seemed you were one of the few people who recognized that. That was one of many reasons why he loved you.

You both attended feasts side by side. He would flirt with you even though you were still about a year into marriage.

“Why, it is too bad that such loveliness is sitting by herself tonight! May I have the seat next to her?” Loki would croon as he sat in the chair next to you.

You danced every dance together at balls. You especially loved spending free hours exploring the Asgardian library together. Reading works from all Nine Realms. Sometimes until you both fell asleep by the fireplace. Not to mention his finesse in the bedroom.

Loki confessed of his wedding day nerves to you in private. He feared…displeasing you on your wedding night. But your mutual passion and reverence for each other won over all else. Every time you coupled, you brought each other to Valhalla and back again. You learned about each other’s bodies like studying maps. Each minute of lovemaking was both exploration and worship of each other.

Lately, the two of you were careful. You had your own special tea to drink before or after it happened. At most, he would spill his seed somewhere that wasn’t between your legs. You knew so much was happening. Becoming a parent would put more stress on both of you. Especially considering Odin was about to name his heir.

Though you both did hope someday to have a child. You knew Loki would be a wonderful father and you wanted to be a mother. You wanted a family. You wanted to have a sweet baby (or two) of your own to cuddle and kiss. To hear it laugh when you tickled it. To welcome their first steps with open arms. To watch it grow. To leave your own mark- a person who was both Loki and you.

Now wasn’t the right time, both of you knew it. When you would sigh about it, he would hug you.

“We will wait, my love…time is our friend…” he’d assure you.

There were worse things in life. And you might as well enjoy what you had now before it was too late. You were lucky to have him. Many couples lived happy, long lives together without children. You were fortunate to have a man who you could confide anything to. And he in turn confided all his worries to you.

The ceremony arrived. And it was not Loki who was named heir as he hoped. It was Thor.

As you stood next to Loki, you felt him stiffen. Thor smiled and held up Mjonir as the kingdom cheered for him. Looking at your husband, you took his hand. You heard him take in a deep sigh through his nose.

“I know you wanted it…I’m so sorry…” you whispered to him, rubbing a thumb over his palm.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One evening when you walked about the garden. The sun was setting and while there was some light, you wanted to admire the roses Frigga grew. Dressed in your golden dress, you knelt to sniff a few red ones. Admiring her work and the peace of the place. You jumped when a guard ran over to you.

“The Prince Loki requests your presence immediately in the castle vaults,” he reported.

Picking up your skirts, you hurried there.

“Loki, where are you? Are you hurt?” you asked as you entered.

He was standing on the steps before the Tesseract’s section. He looked up at the sound of your voice. There were tears in his eyes.

“I…I just spoke with father…” he said.

“What did he say this time?” you asked.

He took a step towards you. More tears fell down his cheeks.

“Y/N…I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have married you, shouldn’t have made you my prisoner…” he said.

Pain curled up in your chest at the words. Their grip tightened your throat and your eyes watered as well as his.

“Prisoner!?! What are you talking about, Loki? You cannot believe every word Odin says! I will talk to him myself right away! How dare he say such cruel things to you! You do deserve me! You do!” you cried.

You reached over to grab his hands and he jerked them back.

“No Asgardian maiden deserves to be sold and made wife to a Frost Giant!” He blurted.

You paused.

“Frost Giant?” you repeated.

All your life you heard whispers of the land of the Frost Giants, or Jotenheim. And they were always violent tales of terror. The large, ice creatures were longtime enemies of your kingdom. It was typical for Thor to boast about how much he would slay if given the chance.

“Stay here…and watch…” Loki instructed.

He put his hand on the Tesseract. Upon contact, his skin turned blue and his eyes red. A frost giant if you ever saw one.

Your eyes widened and you gasped in response, a hand flew over your mouth. Shock made your body lock in place. But you did not turn your eyes from him.

“Oh, Loki!” you cried.

You did not flee. No, you would not. Instead, you ran up and embraced him. He felt cold to the touch. As his hands released the Tesseract you felt him warm up in your arms as his skin turned back to ivory. They curled around your back, and he buried himself in your touch. You felt him shaking. Despite your own surprise, you would not abandon him. Never.

“It’s alright…it’s alright, I’m right here…this is a lot, I know…” you consoled as he cried.

He explained to you that years ago, Odin found an abandoned Frost Giant baby in Jotenheim. He took in the infant to be raised as one of his own. But never telling that young prince the truth about his parentage. Not until an accidental discovery. In a recent battle a Frost Gant touched your husband’s arm, changing your prince’s skin to blue beneath his grip. And blue skin could not lie.

“Do you know what I am, Y/N? I am a monster! That’s who you are married to! A monster!” Loki mourned.

You glanced at the door, then back to him. An idea from a recent library read growing in your head.

“Are you familiar with Midgard Fairy Tales? The ones for children?” you asked.

“No,” he answered.

“You don’t?” you asked.

“Midgard never interested me before…”

Taking him by the hand, you led him back to the library. You found a collection of Midgard Fairy Tales left on your favorite chair. You brought it to him and opened it up, flipping the pages. You then pointed to one story. The first page was illustrated with a ship on the ocean, then a rose, and a grand castle.

“You should read this one right here. It was written years ago by a lady. It is a Midgard Fairy Story called La Belle et La Bete or Beauty and The Beast…” you explained.

Loki took the book. He then flipped the page to see a picture of the eponymous beast.

“I know enough of fairy tales. They’re all the same. There’s some giant or creature who’s always the villain. Kidnapping unwilling maidens and hoarding gold. That is until a prince skewers them. Then there’s great celebration over the killing,” he dismissed.

You placed a hand on the page before he could close it.

“You’re right about one thing. There is a beast in this one…” you continued.

“Oh, and he’s there to do those things so babes will grow up learning to hate me,” Loki complained.

“No! Not in this one he’s not!” you objected.

You turned the page. It showed the Beast smiling with a lady in a rose garden.

“Yes, he is a beast. But do you know what he also is? He is the prince in the story! He might look frightening to some, but beneath it, he is kind and generous! He falls in love and marries a woman who sees that in the end! She doesn’t focus on what makes him monstrous and different- she accepts who he is!”

You set the book down and cupped his face.

“Because she loves him!”

His jaw dropped, speaking nothing. He leaned into your hand.

“A Frost Giant? Yes. I will learn to adjust to the blue skin…but you are my husband. I could not ask for a better one. And I love you. No matter what…” you said.

He embraced you again and you both cried. Tears of happiness and of sorrow. Blue skin or white. Yellow eyes or blue ones. He was Loki. He was your husband, and you would always stay with him. Besides, it’s what he would have done for you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you went to bed that night, you expected tomorrow to be a day like any other. But instead, you were shaken out of sleep.

“Loki, what is it? It’s too early…” you murmured, half-awake.

You felt your bedside but did not feel the lump of his body.

Wakefulness creeping on you, you saw the guards and a few servants in your bedchambers. You jumped to sit up. You held onto the blankets, your knuckles popping in your grip.

“Where is my husband? Is he alright? What’s going on?” you questioned.

Their eyes were all wide. One servant stepped forward and spoke with gravity.

“The prince Thor is banished. And Odin has fallen into his Odinsleep. Loki is now King of Asgard. And you are it’s Queen.”

It was only four sentences. But it felt like something from a dream. You jolted out of bed to stand. You barely opened your mouth to respond when the servant knelt before you. He took your hand and kissed it in reverence.

“Your highness! Queen of Asgard!” he announced.

All bowed before you in your room.

You expected many things when you married the god of mischief. Just not this! It felt like one of those Midgard Fairytales happening to you.

When you dressed and hurried to your husband in the throne room. You forgot your new role and froze your steps. He sat on a throne, legs deliciously apart. He took up space now. The throne was entirely his and he was going to use every inch of it. He was decked in the robe of a ruler, not a prince destined to wait in the wings all his life. He had power in him, and you had to confess the aura of it was…. doing something for you. Your legs were buckling beneath your dress. There was that infamous, mischievous smile on him. It made you shiver. Already morning and desire swirled inside you. When his head turned to see you, he lit up. He got up from his throne and walked down. Per habit, you curtsied low. Then, placing a finger beneath your chin, he led you to standing. Your sex beneath your legs clenched at the gesture.

He then grabbed you and lifted you up in a hug where your feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Y/N…darling!” he greeted.

He put you down and placed a kiss on your lips.

“But…are you ready to rule? It won’t be easy…” you worried.

“It will not. But at last, think of everything I could do…lead armies…unite kingdoms…”

Even Jotenheim and Asgard if he decreed it so, you noted. You then smiled at him. He was glowing from pride and joy. He took your hand and kissed it.

“If we’re together through this…we can handle it…” he said.

They placed you to stand by his side on the throne.

Frigga entered. She bowed to you. Your own knees bucked a little out of habit. Usually you were the one bowing to her! You walked down to her, taking her shoulders.

“Queen mother…I…I’m speechless! …I don’t know how I could ever be a queen as well as you!” you confessed to her.

She kissed your cheek and gave you a patient smile.

“Don’t worry, I will help you. Day by day, step by step, you will learn how.”

“Thank you…what do I do now?”

“You will be crowned this afternoon. The kingdom will be watching. Look at them, your people. And show them you care…” she advised.

The hour arrived for them all. Swarms of people broke in like a flood to the throne room. You felt every eye as a golden crown was placed on your head and as his familiar helmet was placed on Loki.

Remembering Frigga’s advice, you looked down on them. You allowed a smile to grow on you. You smiled as you heard your name being chanted along with your husband's name.

They cheered and bowed to you. Flags were waved and confetti fell like snow across the palace. Loki got took your hand and lifted it up before them. They began to cry out.

“Hail the King Loki! Hail the Queen Y/N!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When the sun began to set, a familiar servant ran up to you.

“The King sends his regrets that duties require his immediate attention. He asked for the cooks to go ahead and serve you dinner in his absence,” she announced.

“Thank you,” you replied. An attempt at a regal tone of voice new to you.

The servant bowed and left. She didn’t do that as reverently when you were a mere princess. You ate your dinner alone and then took a rosewater bath right after. You noticed several stray petals floating around in the tub.

Once you finished, you returned to your chambers. It seemed they would stay the same for now. The King’s room was for the Odinsleep. Drying yourself you picked a nightgown. Tonight, it was a white one with a silvery tone to it. It had long sleeves that draped down and had beautiful beading around the bodice. The neckline dipped down to the clasp that secured it. Some might consider it immodest, but it was too beautiful for your resistance. It gave you some very sensual cleavage that you loved (and so would your husband). The skirt then dipped down to the floor, making it feel like a robe, but the material was not so thick that it felt too hot.

If you dressed more like a queen, even at night, you would feel more apt to the role.

What a day it had been. Part of your body ached after such excitement. You sat by your vanity on a cushion. Flowers (including the roses you liked) from the gardens in vases bedecked it. By the candlelight you checked your hair. Sighing in, you relaxed on the seat, admiring the glimpse of the kingdom at night from your curtains. Enjoying a moment of peace.

You then heard his voice outside the door.

“I am now going to bed. Do not disturb us unless there is an emergency,” Loki ordered the servants and guards. Already he was speaking more like a king.

The doors creaked as he opened it and walked inside. Though he was in his own green bedrobes, there was a bounce and urgency to his step. Then he approached you as you sat on the cushion before the vanity. Though his blue eyes did wander hungrily to your low neckline. They then returned up to your face in the mirror’s reflection.

“How is my pretty queen tonight?” he asked.

“I’m good…” you answered.

“Are you tired?” he asked with a tone of concern.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers drumming in anticipation. Was there some old prank he was going to pull that he wanted you to see? What was he going to say?

“Only a little…I’m still taking it in…” you replied.

He embraced you from behind, nuzzling into your neck. You smiled at the contact of feeling his nose against your skin. He smiled as he looked at you in the mirror.

“You always were a queen to me, my dear….” He said.

He kissed your cheek and then lowered his lips to your neck. You smiled, enjoying the increasingly amorous gesture. You felt the tickle of his breath. His soft lips made another kiss in between your neck and clavicle. You melted into it.

“My, Freya has gotten someone enchanted…” you teased.

“It’s not Freya who enchants me…” he husked.

He then turned you around and led you to stand. And laid a desperate kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around him. He slid in his tongue. A hand of his crept to hold your back to him. You groaned into it. Already, arousal began its long, sinful climb with its wet signal between your legs. You released lips with a satisfying smack.

“If you continue this, I’ll ring for that tea…” you said.

“No…” he voiced.

“Hmm?”

He held your hands down.

“You won’t need that tea tonight. Or for a while…” he said.

You blinked.

“How come?”

He gave you a smile, looking in your eyes.

“I must tell you…the council has given me much advice. To secure myself as king, there are a few things I can do. Enact laws. Silence any rebellions or refusals. And, since I’m already married...”

He paused.

“Sire an heir.”

You felt your breath stop in your throat. Your eyes widened. His smile went down to a smirk. A glint in his eye as he went to you. His eyes roaming down your exposed chest. His hands wandered down, staring to hike a little of your skirt.

“So, you’re saying…” you stuttered.

“Y/N, I…I need you tonight…tonight…I’ll give you a child, an heir, someone to carry on my reign, and keep me as king…Would you like that?” he asked.

He leaned closer. Wanting to kiss you, then pausing. You could feel his breath just on your lips, making you dizzy. He placed his hips against yours. You felt a moan shudder out of you. Your answer was an easy one.

“Yes, yes I would.”

He swept you up in his arms, strong despite his lean frame. Your heart raced so hard you felt it would burst out of you. He laid you on the bed then crawled over you. You felt yourself trembling like it was the first time. He cupped your cheek and leaned over to kiss you.

“My queen, my darling…”

You wrapped your arms around him.

“And my Prince made King,” you said back.

Intuitively, he ground his hips on yours. A small shudder went through you, coming out as a sigh. You reached a hand to run it through his hair as he kissed you again. Combing through those dark curls you loved so much. Because they were a part of him. His crown that never left him. You gave him another, harder kiss. He then looked down at your robe. He slid a hand over the beading, over your chest.

“A lady beautiful as you could doesn’t need such …embellishments…” he growled.

He removed his hand to lift it in the air. He flicked it and a green light began at the tips of your toes and then worked its way up your legs and through your body. Your evening robes for sleeping vanished and instead was your skin. He wetted his lips at the sight of your nakedness.

“I’ve longed to see this, to touch you for hours…”

He went up to your bare breasts. You gulped as he began to kiss it. Your back arched on impulse, tensing already. As he worked his way to the center, you felt yourself tensing already. Smiling at the pleasure as he used his tongue, swirling your nipple. Chills ran over you. He released his mouth to whisper.

“I’ve missed your breasts. The shape. The softness. Feeling you…”

He replaced it with his large hand. He gently squeezed and groped both around. You exhaled out another sound coming out of you. Not a polite one.

“Perfection-perfect for my hands. And perfect to nurse my heir…”

He then lowered himself down, kissing your stomach. Tracing your hips. He then kissed your bellybutton, dipping his tongue into the hole of it. Only a symbol of what was next. A delicious forewarning. Preparation. You grew wetter with the feeling of something soft and wet inside a hole of yours.

“Loki…Loki, my dear…husband…” you whimpered.

He held your hips down, tracing it and feeling them again. How they curved up to where they made your waist. His fingers sprawled possessively over your flesh. Then back down to your hips. Looking down, there was a bulge getting bigger against his green robe.

“And these…perfect. Perfect for what I put between them. For my mouth, my fingers, my cock, and my child…”

He pulled his head up, then you put your finger to his lips. Giggling lightly, as did he.

“You talk so much. But you’ve yet to bare yourself too, my love,” you teased.

With a cocky half-smile, all he did was tilt his head. The seidr ran down from the forehead to the toes, and the smooth robe was replaced with his warm skin. He was so beautiful. Every time he took off his clothes, it was everything in you not to stare. He had a broad, ivory chest so large and enveloping. It was like a blanket when you rested your head on them or when he thrust on top of you. You put a hand to explore the crevices, going through the patch of hairs on him. His muscular shoulders, perfect for digging your nails in. His abdominals-both soft and strong. For he was both at the center of his heart as well. Thighs made thick from running, jumping, and everything a warrior did.

He ground against you. His cock, already hard, teased your stomach. He leaned up to kiss your neck in its small soft spot. A hand returning to your breast.

“You will look wonderful engorged with a babe…a child…a part of you that will always be there, a trace of us together.”

“Loki…my dear husband…I love you…” you voiced.

He smiled, inching close.

“And I love you when you’re screaming beneath me…”

With one long, beautiful hand, he took the outside of your legs. He traced his fingers down from thigh to knee. Ghosting against the upper flesh of your skin. As tenderly as if you were the brightest, most precious jewel kept in his treasury. In seas of coins, rubies, and diamonds…it was you, you out of everything else, that mattered to him.

He took his large, beautiful hands and then moved them to the inside of your knees. You bit back a moan, leaning your head into the pillow as you felt it.

Using both his hands, he then spread you apart, wide open. He looked down at you and grinned. He had seen, felt, penetrated, and tasted your pussy like an addict. Always hungry for more. Even if you were poison, he would consider it the sweetest way to die. He placed himself back up. The tip just teasing your entrance. Every nerve inside you screamed. It brushed against you, never plunging in.

“You’re a banquet all for me, my dear…now…are you ready?” he whispered.

“Oh, please…. stop tormenting me… I want a child…and I want you…give me…give me one, Loki…” you begged.

“Let me…let me feel your sweet warmth and take your king’s shaft…” Loki husked.

He plunged into you slowly. Part of you panted through your nose. You felt him climb inside, inch by agonizing inch. This was a ceremony, sacred as any other rite in a royal bedroom. As if everything had to be right. Yet there was beauty-there was divinity. An ecstasy of reaching something otherworldly in between each other’s legs. You let out a loud gasp when he placed all of you inside him. You grabbed onto him.

He then retracted his hips, and he began to thrust into you. Grinding you right into the bed. Writhing as you accepted his largeness like it was new. Each gasp from his breath, each pant from each thrust. You could feel one muscular arm of your husbands touched the headboard, keeping him steady against you. You felt your back and ass slide against the silk sheets. He was slow, but eager.

“Yes…I promised you… when we married…I’d give you-nrgh-I’d give-give you everything-fuck-everything you’d ever want-gods…yes, gods, yes!” he whimpered as he thrusted.

You let out a moan with each thrust, your own breasts bouncing slowly with the movement. He looked down, releasing the hand on the headboard to slap them.

You let out a gasp- “L-Loki-you-you-you beast!”

“I thought you figured that out already, darling…” he whispered with a chuckle.

You felt his other hand wander to touch your back. You writhed under him. He then slid his hand under his hips guide you up. His strength held you steady. He hit a different angle and you let out a cry-it was deeper, and his cock had found it’s way to your bud. Already sensitive and shaking.

“L-Loki! There! Please! There!” you begged as he kept thrusting.

“As my queen commands…”

You saw the veins in his neck tightening as he kept on. His black curls messed around him- wild and free. A creature claiming his prize for the night. How beautiful he looked. You returned a hand back up and pulled him down. You kissed him with such fervor as he thrust that he stayed for only a second inside you, pausing, catching a breath. What breath there was, anyway.

Then he picked up the pace slightly. You were starting to see stars. That sweet angle where he got your clit. You felt pleasure rise in you. Yes, it was arriving. You moved your hands down from his shoulders, down his triangular back. Once you found his soft, perfect ass you pushed him in again.

“Loki I’m…I’m…I’m close…oh norns- I’m…I’m going to cum!” you pleaded.

“So…am I-nrg-Call me king, call me king again and…and…I’ll-I’ll drive you there with me …”

He lowered his voice. Guttural and demanding.

“Call- me- your- king.”

He even got his free hand inside, speeding you up as he too sped up. You felt it-the breaking point.

“Yes-please-my- my king! My king!” you cried.

He let out a shout and you felt his hot seed spurt inside you. Your own climax then broke upon you. Thw words repeated out of you in a whisper.

“My king…my…my…”

It was the climax where it spun inside you. You felt your whole-body lock. Your quim felt as if it was spinning, sputtering with the pleasure. As well as his seed. You groaned as it washed you down and you felt it. Your eyes teared up. His stayed inside, spurting like mad. Free and plentiful after starvation. A broken dam. He stayed inside. Not wasting one drip of him. You accepted it, every bit of it. Not one drop would go to waste. You felt your body buzz. Vibrating on the inside though you were still. Still except for your own breasts heaving with the breath you caught. You felt him catch his breath on top of you too.

He then cupped your cheek. His curls fell before his face. But his smile and blue eyes glowing from them.

“I couldn’t have asked for better. A better broodmare. A better wife. A better queen by my side…” he said.

Playfully, you went up and kissed the tip of his nose. He grinned at it and then embraced you. Arms flinging around each other. His own sweaty, earthy scent mixed with the rosewater bath you had earlier.

His cock still twitched inside you. Then you felt a final hot release of him and there was no more. He pulled out. Once it left you, you felt a cold space in your quim. Like it was an empty niche, something that needed filling. So much was he a part of you. You reached up your hand to brush his curls back. Seeing his face. Seeing him.

He then went down to your stomach, kissing it.

“I think if it’s a boy…we should call him Tuck…and if it’s a girl...Idona…” you then told him.

He rolled over to lay his head on the pillow. Then he turned over. You hummed at the sight of him- oh Hela, his beautiful profile was art itself!

“And what if we have twins?” he asked.

“I’ll figure it out, later!” you replied with a small laugh.

You placed your head on his chest and looked up and he down.

“I hope you’ve forgiven me for missing dinner…we’ll eat together tomorrow night; I’ll make it up to you…” he said.

“Of course, I forgive you. You had duties of your own…” you whispered.

He then gave a smile with the familiar, delicious darkness in his eyes.

“It might take more than once. We will try for an heir no matter how many times it takes. I’d like to have you on that very table like a meal of my own to devour. And I’ll have you on the library walls. On each rug. On each column. So, rest well…you have several duties of your own tomorrow.”

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