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sarahscribbles · 2 years ago

Text

Ally

ALLY

A L L Y

FUCKING HELL!!! Omg I was ready to CRY at her having Frigga use the spell 😭😭 so much angst and then BAM into smut that has me sweating 😩 the bit about punishing her? 👌🏻😩 I will give you 1 money to make it a reality.

This is so amazing, you’re amazing, and I can’t WAIT for these two idiots to return!! 💚💚

relinquish the crown: masked desires pt2

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: before the main story, one week after 'to covet her' (except the last portion, that's after the main story 😉)

Summary: You're whisked away and have a fleeting moment with a masked stranger. Come the next morning, you make a startling discovery who you were with during the ball.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k [y'all get some wine]

Warnings: non-dream smut (!!!) (minors and pearl clutchers, DNI); themes of incest (he's adopted but still); one cuss word

Things to be aware of: really sad chaotic idiot in love Y/N; stupidly oblivious Y/N's back; the smut's in the last scene but they also get a little frisky in the first scene, so there's also that

You didn't know what you were thinking, following your mystery partner out of the ballroom and into the hall where there were already a handful of masked couples doing precisely what you believed the nameless man dressed in your colors was intending. You quickly undid the ties of your veil by your neck, praying that he wouldn't undo the other set of ties and reveal the entirety of your face.

He led you far enough away from the rest of the couples, granting you a semblance of privacy as you hid behind a large column before pressing you flush against the wall and taking the loosened bottom of your veil, slowly lifting it up.

"Wait," you said in a rush. "You can't remove my--"

"I won't, milady, do not worry," he reassured you, lifting only until your lips were revealed. He took a look at the part of your face that was revealed, licking his lips before murmuring, "Beautiful." And then he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a tender, almost tentative kiss. The contact made a warmth bloom immediately in your lower stomach, quickly evolving into a heat pooling between your thighs.

The moment you let out a whimper his lips were on yours again, as if he were a man starved, and yet he was set on walking the fine line between devouring you and savoring you. Chasing his pleasure but also coaxing your own. When he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue easily slipping past your lips and almost playfully flicking against your own, you moaned into his mouth.

"What if I pretended you were the woman I loved?" he panted into your ear, pressing fevered kisses on the skin below, by the edge of your jaw. You tilted your head to expose your neck to him, and he took the cue to trail his kisses there, being careful to only kiss rather than bite or even lightly suck.

"Then I suppose whoever she is, she's a very fortunate woman. You'd make her very happy," you panted, your moan traveling down the hall as he licked at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "So long as you kiss her just like this," you whimpered, punctuating your sentiment with another loud moan.

"Loving her is dangerous." It almost sounded like he was confessing a crime with the tone his masked voice took on. "Salacious. Lecherous. She would never return that love." He pressed his lips to yours once again, groaning into your mouth as his hand curled around your thigh through the slit in your dress, hooking it around his hip and proceeding to grind his trousered hardening erection against your dampened core.

"Oh! She would be a fool to—Oh fuck—She'd be a fool not to love you," you whimpered as he ground his hips against yours. "An absolute fool," you finished with a sigh.

"And what of you?" he asked through gritted teeth as he kept at his movements. He placed tender kisses onto your shoulder and neck, groaning into your skin, tracing your collarbone with his tongue. "Who are pretending you're with tonight?"

"Someone I shouldn't desire," you answered in a heartbeat. "Someone I shouldn't be in love with." And suddenly your reality was cemented. In this hall, confessing your veiled half-truths to this masked stranger, you could see your reality unfolding before you if you remained in love with Loki. Keeping the most passionate part of you hidden for fear of being discovered and thought a lech by not just the entirety of the kingdom, but by the god himself.

But not tonight. Tonight, this stranger could be whoever you wished as he kissed you, caressed you, and drove his hips maddeningly against yours. Tonight, you were with Loki. Free of consequence. Free of damnation. At least until midnight. At least until the Queen's spell wore off.

You both stayed this course for hours. Hands roaming each other's form, as if you were both committing this moment to memory. This moment where two strangers bonded over pretending that the other was their forbidden beloved, that they could be with the one their hearts ached for. Until you once again heard the Queen's voice echoing all around the halls.

"Citizens of Asgard, the veil of anonymity will drop in one minute. If you wish to maintain the cover of your identities, I recommend you disengage from your present company."

"I suppose this is where we part ways," he spoke against your lips. "Might I ever see you again?" He set you back on your feet, hands hovering by your waist in case you were unsteady.

"I suppose you will inevitably. But you wouldn't know if you did."

He flashed you the quickest smile before pressing a final soft kiss to your lips. "So which one were you? The dressmaker? The farm girl? Or the princess?"

"Whichever one you wished I was," you answered playfully as you began to walk back towards the ballroom. "Just as how I pretended you were the man I love." With that, you secured your veil back over the bottom half of your face.

On your way back, you spotted a couple. One with the unmistakable physique of a warrior, blond and perfectly coifed hair. The other with a head of strawberry blonde hair you knew anywhere, regardless of where you were within the Nine Realms. You held back an excited squeal as you surmised that the couple who were still engaged in a tender kiss and a lover's embrace were none other than Fandral and Narda.

At least one of us gets the happy ending, my friend.

This was the first night's slumber wherein you did not have any sensual dreams about the god living across from you. You had to admit after months and months worth of those dreams, to not have them this time around felt peculiar. As if there was something lacking.

You missed those sinful dreams.

Instead last night you simply relived the memories of the ball. Of your encounter with your mysterious nameless partner. Of the way his lips felt as they moved with yours, the way his hands roamed your body as if it was the last time…because it was. Of the wondrous noises you both made as he drove his hips into yours, the feeling absolutely exquisite even with the barriers of your clothing between you.

Perhaps, after all, you needn't seek your grandmother's magical intervention in order to move past your affections for Loki. Perhaps you simply needed to seek out the identity of your partner from the ball. Clearly you were both in the position where you pined for someone you couldn't have, someone you shouldn't have. There was most definitely the tinder of passion between you, though you suspect it could have been fueled by the mystery of it all.

But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to at least try seeking him out. At least as an attempt to begin moving forward with your life. Perhaps once you did, you would soon find yourself able to live with the memories of the affections you once held for the god who currently consumed your waking and dreaming thoughts.

And these moons you spent yearning for him would only feel like a drop in the bucket.

With this newfound resolve, you set about your morning getting ready, practically skipping to your chamber doors and into the hall, just as Loki was exiting his chambers. When he caught sight of you a brilliant smile graced his features as he held out his hand toward you.

But you were too busy fixing your gaze on something revealed by his open door. A suit and a mask, undoubtedly his costume from the night before, displayed on a costume maker's mannequin. Clearly bespoke, for you expected nothing less from the Prince. And the garments were set in black and gold.

The exact same clothes worn by your nameless partner last night. Now no longer nameless. No longer faceless. No longer a mystery.

The stranger you spent the night dancing with, conversing in your twisted little thinking game. The man who pinned you to the wall with his body as you rubbed yourselves against each other. The one who now knew the feel of your lips, the ridges at the roof of your mouth, and everywhere in between.

It was Loki.

And your elation over the knowledge that you now knew what it felt like to be held by him, to kiss him, to be desired by him, came crashing down just as quickly as it arose. Loving her is dangerous. What if I pretended you were the woman I loved?

Loki was in love with someone. And this wretched woman would be a fool to reject him. Soon he would begin to court her, and then marry her. And that would be it. He was already lost to you.

The pain you anticipated, the one you feared, when you inevitably had to face losing him to another was nothing compare to how it felt when the knowledge was finally staring you in the face. Your heart felt heavy and hollow all at once. As if it had hardened into lead and yet also shattered into infinitesimal splintered pieces. Your body broke out in chills despite your blood boiling. You felt as if you were falling from the ground disappearing beneath your feet and yet unable to move from the very space you occupied.

"Darling?" You could hear the distress in the god's voice as he saw the visible unrest on your face. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He framed your face with his hands, thumbs softly stroking your cheeks.

"I erm…I should see Grandmother. I feel unwell," you tried to move away from him, placing your hands on his wrists in an attempt to gently shrug off his hold. Your head was swimming with too many thoughts, too many images that you feared you would come to face soon. Your heart was beating too fast, the air felt too cold, too thin.

"Tell me what ails you, darling. I can heal you." He sounded as if he was pleading with you, frantic and fevered…almost beside himself. Had it been anything else you would have taken him up on his offer, but this was something between you and the Queen. It wasn't like you could ask him to rid your mind of your immoral love for him.

"It's fine. I need to speak with her about some matters anyways. Post-festivities and whatnot." You did your best to sound casual, as if you were not witnessing your world crumbling and fading before you. As if your heart weren't turning into something less than ash.

"If you're sure," he said with a touch of caution. "Can you walk?" He slowly pulled his hands away from you, seeing if you could stand on your own, catching you immediately when you took a step back and stumbled over nothing and picking your weakened form up and into his arms. "Let's get you to my mother, then."

One thing that Frigga knew beyond doubt was that she could find her family anywhere. Regardless of whether they were lost in a crowd or elaborately disguised, she could find her children, and her only grandchild, anywhere in the Nine Realms. Of this she was absolutely sure.

So it was easy for her to spot Loki in the crowd during the masquerade ball, donning a suit set in your colors. Even easier when he approached a woman wearing a draping silken dress set in his colors, who she immediately identified as none other than her granddaughter. Loki's fated. You.

Even behind disguises where you both could have been drawn to any other person in the room, you still found a way to each other. As if your souls themselves were reaching out to its partner, always seeking out its other half and pointing you both in the right direction.

Seeing you two dance together, wearing each other's colors, anonymously declaring yourselves to one another in front of the whole kingdom, warmed the Queen's heart so. She found herself eagerly awaiting the day that would lead to the vision she found when she glimpsed your future. The vision comprised of you two happily married, running into each other in the halls of the palace as you performed your royal duties for the day separate from each other, and in that fleeting moment the smiles grew on your faces and shone so brilliantly as you ran into his arms and kissed him so lovingly for any bystander to see.

As she wondered what your inevitable wedding ceremony would look like, she was startled by the doors to her workroom opening so abruptly, the sight of you weakened in Loki's arms immediately alarming her. "What happened, my son?"

"She said she feels unwell," he answered her. "When she left her chambers she was fine, but then it was as if…a switch had been flipped inside of her. Mother, she's cold." There were tears in his eyes as he spoke of you, the fear evident in his tone.

"It's alright, my son. Set her down on the chaise, I'll tend to her."

"Mother," he choked out. "She will be alright, will she not?"

"Stop worrying yourself, Loki," you said weakly. "I will be as I was momentarily."

A chill ran down Frigga's spine as you said those words. She knew why you were here. You'd come to explore your options. To rid yourself of the affection you'd begun to feel for Loki.

As he set you down on the chaise near the window of the room, she watched with a breaking heart as he gently stroked the top of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be right outside, darling. I love you." Her eyes widened at his words. Had he confessed? No. If he had, you wouldn't be here, looking the way you did, about to ask her the favor she knew was coming.

"I love you, too," you responded weakly. She could hear the tears you were fighting to hold back as you said the words, seeing the words now for what they were. A confession disguising itself as platonic, familial sentiment. On both ends.

Had she not loved you both unconditionally, she would have voiced her rather harsh opinion of your current predicament. Called you both cowards. Imbeciles. She would have confessed for you both at this very moment if she could, risking the resentment from both of you.

Instead she chose not to interfere, putting her faith in the outcome that despite the favor she was about to grant you in order to give you reprieve from the distress clearly plaguing you, that your love for Loki was strong enough to break the spell she would cast on your mind. Eventually.

"I will take care of her, my dear boy," she said to her son as he kneeled by your side. "But you need to let me work." She subtly tilted her head toward the door, which he responded to immediately with a nod, pressing a final kiss to the back of your hand before standing upright and exiting the workroom. "Now, darling Granddaughter, what truly ails you?"

"You said to take this week to entertain the thought of loving him. I have. And now I hurt. Grandmother, I need them extinguished. Tell me what can be done, I am begging you," you answered her weakly.

"Darling Y/N," she breathed as she knelt where Loki was just moments ago. "Why? He loves you, he just said it himself--"

"It's not enough," you cried, the tears flowing freely down the sides of your face. "He couldn't love me the way that I do he's--" You began to choke on your sobs so she helped you to sit up, rubbing your back as you tried to compose yourself. "He's not depraved. Not like I am. Grandmother, tell me. Am I broken? Cursed? Did I do something that angered the Norns so fiercely that they condemned me to love a man I could never have?"

Those words seemed to open the floodgates for you, now letting out screams of pure anguish as you sobbed in your grandmother's arms. "My dear granddaughter, it's alright. You will be alright, but to perform this spell I must as you again are you absolutely--"

"I kissed him," you cut her off. When she looked upon your face, it was as if your eyes had gone blank. As if you'd put yourself in a trance as you recalled the events. "Last night. At the ball. I danced with a charming man, in a bespoke suit set in my colors. We talked about who we could be. And then he whisked me off into the hall and he kissed me. And there we stayed until the end. Until mere moments before your spell over the palace wore off."

Gods, please tell me that my son did not take his fated for the first time against the wall in the palace hallways, the Queen groaned inwardly to herself. They both deserve better than that.

"This morning I saw the suit worn by that man hanging in Loki's chambers. It was him," you breathed out, tears beginning to fall once more. "And now I know what it feels like to kiss him. To touch him. To be desired by him. And it's ripping me apart to know that I will never know that again."

"Y/N, my sweet granddaughter--"

"He's in love with someone, did you know that?" you said hysterically. "In the hall, when we were in our disguises, he said that he was pretending that I was the woman he loved. That it was dangerous to love her. Fool. Anyone who wouldn't love him in return is a fool," you hissed as your voice began to break. "Grandmother, when he courts whoever this woman is, I will not be able to bear the anguish. I need--" You choked once more, sniffling, and sobbing through your words.

"Oh, my darling girl…"

"I need to be able to live through it. And the only way I can is if these emotions no longer plague me, so please, Grandmother. I am begging you. Help me."

"I will. Y/N, I will help you," she reassured you as she pulled you into an embrace. "But you must know one more thing. This spell will lock away your memories, keep it in a place within your mind that you can no longer reach. But if after this spell is cast, you fall in love with Loki again, those memories will be set free, and it will pain you, Granddaughter. It may feel as if your head is being split in two as you begin to reconsolidate your newly recovered sentiments."

"I don't care, Grandmother. I just wish to be fixed," you answered, your voice completely devoid of strength now. "I will not make the same mistake twice, of that I can assure you."

As she held you, she allowed a tear to escape her, rolling down her cheek and falling to the fabric of your dress. "Very well then, Y/N."

Several minutes passed that you were in the Queen's workroom, with Loki waiting outside, his impatience quite evident as he paced back and forth it was a wonder that he hadn't dug a small trench into the floor yet with his steps. When he finally heard his mother call for him from inside the room, he nearly sprinted into action, walking in with such haste, anxious to see you better after he witness the weariness in you when he carried you in.

"Loki!" you greeted him cheerfully as you ran into his open arms. Much as he was relieved to see you visibly better than you were just minutes ago, he couldn't help but sense that there was something different about you.

"Is everything alright with you now, darling?"

The brightness in your eyes didn't falter as you scrunched your nose at him. "All better now. Grandmother tells me it was simply a bad case of the cramps. I must have overworked myself this week," you answered him with a chuckle. A softness entered your gaze as you looked into his eyes. "Have I thanked you yet for how much you've helped me in all this?"

He fought against the instinct to furrow his brows at you, the confusion seeping into his system. "Multiple times, little Princess," he chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

When you giggled at his response, a sense of alarm still nagged at him. It was as if there was something missing with you, he just couldn't quite place what it was yet. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace, once again feeling amiss compared to even simply yesterday morning. "Once more wouldn't hurt. Thank you."

"It was my genuine pleasure, darling." He snuck a look at his mother, who was looking at him with undeniably sorrowful eyes. "Why don't you wait for me outside, Princess? I just need to speak with my mother for a moment." He felt you nodding against his shoulder before stepping out of his hold and walking toward the door. "Y/N?" You stopped midway and turned around to face him. "I love you."

Something in his heart splintered as you answered with a carefree smile and a tone that was completely lacking in the depth it had the last time you said the words. "I love you, too."

When the door closed behind you, he turned to the Queen. "Mother, what happened to her?"

She simply answered by saying nothing and walking over to him, pulling him into a warm embrace. "I am so terribly sorry, my dear boy."

"Sorry? What ever for?" Everything in him felt cold, as if he'd lost something he had even been aware he was capable of losing. "Mother, what happened to Y/N?"

"You have to promise me something, Loki." Her voice was rife with command, with frenzy.

"Of course, Mother."

"Never let her go. Fight for her. Until she finds her way to you."

"You sound so confident that she will."

She grabbed his hand and projected an image into his mind. An image of you and him, performing your royal duties and having a fleeting moment to each other as you crossed paths in the palace halls. You ran into his arms and pulled him into a kiss, whispering as you pulled away, "I've missed you, husband."

"That is your future, my Son," she said with a warm smile. "But only if you fight for it."

The image left Loki breathless. Husband. You called him husband. You would become his after all. "I promise," he choked out, unable to find his words as he tried to imagine what the events could be that led to finally being able to call you his as he was yours.

When he left his mother's workroom, he found himself quickly panicking again as he saw you leaned against the wall, head tilted toward the ceiling, your fingers gently massaging your temples.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Hmm?" You quickly stopped your movements and turned your gaze to look at him. "Oh, 'tis nothing. Just a small headache, that's all."

He nodded slowly, trying to remember the last time you complained of your head hurting but being unable to recall any such occasion. This was new. Whatever happened in the workroom with his mother…resulted in that, he was sure.

Trying to clear his mind, Loki held out his hand to you. "Shall we, Princess?" Once again, your smile was a touch too bright, and much too carefree, that it wasn't sitting quite right with the god. But for now he chose not to focus on it, choosing instead to look ahead. To plot several possible courses of action in order to reach the future that his mother saw for the two of you.

The future where he'd finally get to call you his darling wife.

A few years later…

"My darling wife, what ever are you holding?"

You walked out of your closet holding a garment bag, a pensive, almost rueful smile on your face. "Something I remembered." When you turned your gaze and your eyes met Loki's, you could see the expectance on his face, silently urging you to continue. "Do you remember the masquerade ball?"

His brows furrowed as he walked over to position himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I do, my love. Why?" He proceeded to press more kisses on to your cheek, then your jaw, down to your neck. He pulled back the side of your dressing gown to trail his kisses across your shoulder, making you bite your lip as you held back a moan.

"You danced with a woman that night." He froze against you at your words. "She wore your colors."

"Y/N, my darling, we hadn't--"

You set the garment bag down on the bed and turned in his arms. "Let me finish," you told him softly, placing your hands on his shoulders. His eyes were rife with unspoken apologies, but he simply nodded at you, causing you to give him a soft smile as you stood on the tips of your toes to place a kiss on his lips.

That, of course, led to another…and another…until he lifted you into his arms as he deepened the kiss, sighing contentedly as your tongues met, flicking against one another. You began to whimper against his attentions once he had your back pressed against the wall and he'd let his hands start roaming under the flimsy garment covering you.

"You're distracting me," you accused half-heartedly, contentment setting into you as his hands caressed your thighs so tenderly. Your breathing hitched as he kissed down the skin exposed by your dressing gown, pushing the fabric aside in order to trace along your collarbone with his tongue.

"Keep going, my dear wife," he murmured against your skin. "I'm listening."

"You're not playing fair," you whined, your chest heaving as you tried to take steadying breaths to calm yourself against your beloved's onslaught of affection.

He stopped kissing your skin, placing your dressing gown back to its previous state, and brought his face inches from yours. So close that your noses were brushing against one another, that you could feel his warm breath on your lips. "My darling, had I ever played fair, I wouldn't have you," he cooed at you, tilting his head to brush his lips across yours briefly.

"I know," you breathed. "I dare not imagine how our lives would have been if you did." You placed your arms on his shoulders, crossing them behind his neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. Even the fleeting moment where you caught a glimpse of what your life would have been if he'd stopped fighting for you, for your love, made tears prickle in the back of your eyes.

You'd been so hardheaded and foolish, nearly lost him as a consequence of your idiocy. And you'd never be able to forgive yourself for it. You couldn't even comprehend that he had so quickly.

"Alright, my love, no more distractions, I promise," he chuckled against your lips, gently placing you back on your feet, arms loosely circling your waist to keep you steady. "Keep going."

It took a few moments for you to recall where you'd stopped your story. "You whisked her away to the hall, where you kissed her. Told her you were pretending that she was the woman you loved."

"You were there?" he asked breathlessly, as if he'd been sucker punched. "You heard--"

"She told you that whoever it was, she would be very happy so long as you kissed that woman the way you kissed her. You told her that loving this woman was dangerous. Lecherous." You could see the emotions swimming in his eyes as you recalled that conversation. The words he'd unknowingly said to you now coming back to him in lurid detail. "And she told you that this woman would be a fool not to love you."

"My love--"

"I was a fool," you cut him off. "I did very foolish things in fear that the love I had for you was not returned. I was foolish to singlehandedly deny us our happiness for years, when all this time--"

"You were pained, dear heart. All that matters is that we are here now. You found your way back to me, my darling wife." He placed his forehead against yours, hands stroking your sides gently in a soothing motion, as if he could already sense that your mind was spiraling down a dark and treacherous path once again. "You don't have to keep going with your memory if it pains you--"

"I want to," you insisted. "I need you to know this, husband." You took hold of his arms, trying to ground yourself. "You asked her who she was pretending to be with that night."

He continued to stroke your sides, comforting you through the memory. Perhaps also trying to ground himself in the process. "I remember," he said breathily.

"And I said…" His hands suddenly stopped, pulling away from you slightly so that he could look into your eyes, the bewilderment so evident on his face. "Someone I shouldn't desire. Someone I shouldn't be in love with." A smile began to spread across his face as he processed your words. "Loki. My darling husband. My love. Open the bag."

He released you from his hold to slowly open the garment bag that housed your gown from that night. He let out an audible sigh of what sounded like relief when he caught sight of the green silk that you'd worn, along with the lace mask at the center of the hanger. "You?" he breathed out as he turned his gaze to you, his eyes so full of wonder and love as the realization sunk in.

"It was me. You were with me that night." You took his hand in yours and he brought it up to his lips, placing tender kisses on your palm, the inside of your wrist, anywhere he could reach. "And I was pretending that I was with you."

His eyes darkened with unadulterated lust as those final words came out, letting go of your hand as his fingers ghosted down the opening of your dressing robe until they reached the ties. With a swift tug, he undid the knot and shrugged the garment off you, leaving you completely bare. You made a motion to return the favor but instead he pulled you to him, pressing his body against yours as he guided you to lie down on the bed.

Once your back laid on the mattress, he placed a soft kiss on your lips before beginning a descent down your neck, his destination quite obvious. "We no longer need to pretend, my love," he murmured against your skin. He placed kisses all across your chest, your back arching into his kiss as he paid special attention to your breasts, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive skin of your nipples.

"Husband--" you gasped as he continued his descent, biting and sucking a bruise into your hip.

"One of these days I may have to punish you for all those years you denied us, my darling," he murmured once he reached your sex. He placed soft, tender kisses on the inside of your thighs, prolonging your need of him even more. "Once I figure out how I will do it. And how to say no to you. Even when you're begging for release."

All you could do in response was let out a broken whimper of his name as your mind wandered to what he could have planned when that day finally came, followed by a series of pleading moans as his tongue traced and teased along your folds.

"Or perhaps I would grant you your release…over and over again. And I must deny you when you're begging me to stop," he taunted you, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as you let out a high-pitched whimper. "Do not worry your precious head, my darling. I will not be denying you anything tonight."

Your moans echoed around the room as his lips closed over your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves as he slipped two fingers inside of you, twisting and scissoring, readying you for him before he curled them upward, stroking relentlessly until your back was arching off the bed as you soaked his digits in your release.

You watched as Loki rose to his feet, quickly undoing the ties on his own dressing robe and shrugging it off, standing before you in all his naked glory. He moved until his lips hovered over yours, and you could feel his hand lining himself at your entrance. "I love you, my darling wife," he said softly before pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

He pushed his length into you in slow, gradual thrusts, each time sinking deeper into you until your hips were flush with one another. You couldn't find it in you to form words, so instead you reached out to him with your mind to deliver your sentiment. I love you, too. My darling husband. My Loki.

A/N: Aaaaaa we finally have a glimpse of happy married life! Now y'all will take that as a slice of comfort because we're getting closer to the wedding and Y/N's essentially back to zero when it comes to her feelings whew--

I still cannot believe what an absolute behemoth of a story this turned into that I'm even looking at it in terms of "season arcs" at this point, but honestly this has been such an amazing experience for me, getting to create all this and seeing how much y'all love the messy chaotic life I've created for these two.

We're far from finished with their story, and I can reveal now that I have a handful of ideas for it instead of just a one-off…this will have a few "What If…?" type detours of the smutty variety. Do with that information what you will 😏

Here's a bonus gif for everyone who stays until the end:

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot

Loki: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @princess-ofthe-pages @ozymdias @eleniblue

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