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#dark!thor odinson
boxofbonesfic · 1 year
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I can't stop thinking of possessive fire fighter Thor 😌🥴
welp, nonnie, now I can’t either. maybe you weren’t thinking quite this dark, but… 😅
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Title: Everloving
Pairing: Dark!Thor x Reader
Summary: A one night stand has worse consequences than you ever could have imagined.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Arson, Noncon, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied Basement-Wife, Stalking, Breeding, Darkfic, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Minors DNI!
[divider by @firefly-graphics]
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You stare at the ceiling over his shoulder as you catch your breath, your fingernails still dug hard into the muscles rippling beneath his skin. You’re still spiraling back down into yourself when he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows to grin dopily at you. His blond hair falls handsomely across his face, and the corners of his bright blue eyes are crinkled with his smile. 
 “See, Peach?” Thor says with a wink, his breath still a little short. “Told you I would take you to Valhalla.” 
 You raise a hand to your head, fingers curling in your hair as you laugh breathlessly. It’s a corny joke—and it was even cornier when he’d fed you the pick-up line in the bar, complete with his sultry little every girl needs a firefighter, Peach. It had been so corny you’d been left wondering if it was specifically engineered to get you to laugh yourself into his bed, but the earnest look on his face makes you second-guess your two minute drunk assessment. The firefighter’s uniform he’d told you about is hung up on the back of the door, too, lending credence to his honesty. 
 “Why is that funnier the second time?” You say, and he laughs. He eases up off of you, and your cheeks heat as you feel him slip out of your puffy, still throbbing cunt. You sit up, pulling his blanket up over your bare chest self-consciously. Thor, it seems, is just as glorious in nudity as he is clothed, back muscles rippling as he turns to the closet, and pulls out a hand towel to clean himself off. You hear a tinny sounding thud as he tosses the condom into the trash-can next to his desk. He offers you a towel and you take one, hurriedly swiping between your own thighs.
 “Do you want to shower?” He asks over his shoulder. “My roommate’s won’t be back for a few hours, so if you wanted to shower and crash—”
 “That’s okay,” You say quickly, snatching your shirt off of the back of his desk chair, using his blanket as a somewhat unconventional toga while you shimmy into it. “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you tug up your jeans. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” 
 “No, it’s totally fine, they won’t mind. And maybe tomorrow we could get breakfast—”
 “I don’t think so,” you say stiffly. “I’ve got work in the morning.” 
 “Right, right,” he laughs a little awkwardly, stepping back into his briefs. The elastic snaps as he pulls them back up around his waist. “Well, maybe we could go out another time?” 
 You answer him with a shake of your head. “Sorry, I just, um….” You blow out a breath, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. “I’m not like… looking for a relationship. Right now.” You smile apologetically. “I just, you know. Just got out of one, and it was a whole thing, and I just… I’m not ready, right now for another commitment like that.” His face falls, the boyish grin on his face disappearing as he regards you. 
 “Oh.” 
 “I’m sorry,” you say again, feeling the tension thick in the air between you. “I um. I had fun.”
 “Yeah. Me too.” A look you can’t read crosses his face, and he lifts his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He doesn’t say anything else as you shrug back into your jacket and flee his room, navigating back down the dark hallway toward the door. Your sneakers are in a messy heap by the front door where you left them, and you step into them quickly, eager to be out of his apartment. 
 You pull up your rideshare app as you walk down the block, trying to put a little distance between yourself and Thor before you call. For some reason, you don’t want to do it right outside, not that you think he’d watch you through the window like some creeper—
 Or would he?
 Either way, you call when you’ve reached the bodega on the end of his block, and in five minute Jeffery in a white Hyundai Sonata is pulling up to the curb. 
 Omw home. Your text pops into the roommate groupchat, and it’s not thirty seconds before you see three different speech bubbles appear in the bottom left corner. 
 Heather: girl. it’s one-am!!!!
 Bobbie: girl shut up, she was getting her back blown out by that hot blond lmao
 Heather: twisted into pretzels lolll
 Kirsten: none of you are asking the real questions. how was it???????
 You stifle your laughter with your hands, glancing at the rearview mirror before responding. 
 I will be home in ten minutes. You all will just have to wait. You are, of course, greeted by shrill giggles and questions the moment you walk through the door. You deliver the details as painlessly as you can muster, choosing not to describe the heartbroken look on Thor’s face when you’d tried to let him down as gently as you could. 
 “I mean, you’re totally right. You shouldn’t jump into anything so quick, not after Jimmy.” Bobbie nods sagely at you in approval. 
 “I dunno. He seemed sweet,” Kirsten says dreamily. “Might be a nice guy.” 
 “He was looking for a serious girlfriend, K,” you reply, stretching as you turn toward your room. “And I am not doing serious right now. Bobbie’s right.” 
 After a hot shower, you flop tiredly onto your bed and burrow under the covers. You’re still a little sore from earlier, and you bite your lip, wondering if you’d made a mistake. No harm in letting him shoot his shot, right? That’s what Heather had told you in the bar when he’d first begun sending you drinks, and what had rung in your head when your casual conversation had become boldly flirtatious. 
 There are plenty of other fish in the sea for him. You turn over, pressing your face gratefully into the pillow, confident that by tomorrow morning, Thor wouldn’t even remember your name. 
 ——
 The smell of smoke wakes you, only seconds before Bobbie is hurriedly shaking you awake. 
 “Fire! Fire get up now!” 
 Blearily you sit up, registering the shrill beeps of the fire-alarm just before you choke on thick, hot smoke. It’s filling the room, curling against the ceiling as you sit up, shoving your feet into your slippers. Bobbie’s hand is tight around yours as the two of you race for the door, followed by Heather and Kirsten. The hallway is filled with the other residents, everyone rushing out of the building in a crushing stampede. You’re dizzy, your throat hoarse and your eyes red and watering as you and your roommates watch your lives billow up into the night sky. 
 The street outside is chaos as the firetrucks arrive, men in uniform pushing through the crowd. You’re still staring numbly at your burning apartment building when large hands land on your shoulders. 
 “Peach? Peach you okay?” Thor pushes up his visor, his face filled with worry. 
 “She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, she was the last to get out,” Bobbie says worriedly. You’re forced to agree—every breath feels raw, like you’d swallowed some of the fire yourself. “Is there an ambulance coming?”
 “Yes, there is, but if it’s that bad, I should take her to the hospital now,” He says, snapping his visor back down. Thor’s grip is like iron as he steers you towards the back of one of the small response vehicles, and he hands you an oxygen mask and a little tank. “Breathe through this for a little while, Peach. You’ll feel better in no time.” 
 The street is clogged with vehicles, and Thor steers patiently around them while you sit in the back and try to catch your breath. The smell of the fire, the lights and the sound of sirens fade gradually behind you as you watch the building disappear in the rearview mirror. Eventually, all you can see is the thick column of smoke curling into the still dark sky in the distance as Thor gets onto the highway. His blue eyes meet yours in the mirror. 
 “How are you feeling?” He asks. The oxygen is certainly helping, though you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be feeling quite this light and giggly. Oxygen deprivation makes you high right? Or is that something else?
 “Like I almost got barbecued,” you say, lowering the mask. A hoarse laugh escapes you. “Sorry. But I did almost die.”
 He smiles at you in the mirror. “It’s alright. A bit of morbid humor is to be expected.” You realize with a glance out of the window that you’re far past the hospital. It isn’t funny, but you giggle. In fact, he’ll be out of the city limits in another few minutes. “Besides, It’s probably the nitrous.” You squint at him. 
 “What?”
 “Nitrous Oxide, Peach. In the canister.” He winks at you, though he’s spinning in the rearview—or is it my head? Your limps are limp and uncooperative as you tug at the mask, gasping for air as your vision tunnels. You get it off, but it isn’t enough, and you gape at the air like a fish as you try to swallow it down into your lungs.
 Your ears are ringing, and black spots dance in your vision as you slump sideways over in the seat. The roof of the car swims in and out of focus as you gulp down lungful after lungful of air. You don’t know how long Thor’s been driving when he pulls over—twenty minutes? Thirty? But your head is still buzzing, your vision unfocused when Thor opens the back door. 
 “I am sorry you got hurt, Peach,” he says, managing to sound disgustingly apologetic as he reaches for you. You kick at him, but he’s so big and so coordinated and you are not, and he presses you to the seat, hovering over you like he had earlier this evening. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 
 His admission drags a ragged sob from your throat as your eyes widen. You wail, your struggles renewing themselves until you’re exhausted. Thor remains immoveable above you, like your efforts have done nothing but delay, and perhaps irritate him. 
 “You set the fire.” He doesn’t deny it.
 “Magnesium shavings and alcohol.” He taps the tip of your nose with a finger.  “I like you so much, Peach. I just… I couldn’t watch you go out again with someone else.” He catches both of your wrists in one large hand and pins them to the seat beneath you. 
 “T-Thor,” your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “S-stop, I—”
 He hushes you with a kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows it hungrily, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and worrying it until it swells. 
 “I just want to start over,” he repeats your words from the bar, hours—a lifetime—ago back to you, dark sincerity dripping from every word. “Pick up and start over—”
 “Shut up!” You cry, tears welling in your frightened eyes. “You don’t know me!”
 “Maybe not yet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the salty tracks over the curve of your cheek. “But we have time.” The fingers of his free hand slip beneath the loose elastic waistband of your pajama pants to cup your bare pussy. He heaves a pleased sigh. “No panties? Peach you are truly a treasure.” He parts your lips with sure, unhurried motions, his fingers sliding through your folds. 
 You try to close your thighs around his hand, but he doesn’t let you, wedging himself between your thighs. 
 “P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—” You babble apologies that he doesn’t seem to hear, his touches ironically soft and unhurried. “Thor please—!” His lips crush against yours again, turning the words into a frightened squeak. 
 “What’s the matter, Peach?” He asks, trailing down your jaw and over your pulse point. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Thor’s pleased little hum makes shame curl in your belly. You’re wet. You know you are, and you hate yourself for it as he draws his fingers back and forth, spreading the slick through your folds with practiced ease. “See? She even remembers me.”
 Thor circles your entrance with gentle strokes, and you huff through your teeth to hide the whine that threatens to tumble from your lips. You hate him, his soft persistent kisses, the drag of his fingers through your traitorously aching folds. You hate it because it feels good, because he’s making it feel good, because it feels like you’re shattering into a thousand fractured shards in his capable hands, and you get the feeling that he wants you to. 
 Can’t fix what isn’t broken.
 You whimper at the burning stretch of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding deliciously against your clit. When you clench your teeth against the pleasure, Thor clucks his tongue at you. 
 “Let it feel good, Peach,” he coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches loudly in your throat, and Thor moans deeply at the sight, leaning down to suck a bruise onto your collarbone. “You don’t have to be in control anymore. You can let go.” He mumbles the words darkly against your skin as you feel his hips shift up. 
“You can just let me—” Thor reaches between your bodies, tugging the band of his briefs down over the thick shaft of his cock. “Do the thinking for both of us.” He groans as it pops out from under the elastic, slapping against the puffy, slick lips of your pussy. 
 Thor’s lips part in a soft “o” as he slides his cock back and forth, eyes rolling up to stare sightlessly through the roof of the car. His fingers dig into the fleshy curve of your hip, the other forcing your wrists down harder into the seat cushion. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes and running down into your hair, acceptance settling like lead as you realize this is happening. 
 The head of his cock throbs hard as he pushes it against your swollen clit. You push down on the pleasure as hard as you can, trying not to let it show on your face. It’s useless though, as your thighs begin to tremble around his hips from the steady pressure at your clit. You writhe, trying in vain to buck him off. You only succeed in pushing yourself against him, pleasure rolling in sticky warm waves up your spine. 
 “N-no, ah—” You’re cumming then, your words are lost in the choked sob that tightens your throat. Cheeks flush with heat, you turn tear-filled eyes to Thor’s. He looks at you with an manic kind of joy, his fever bright eyes drinking in every detail. Your pussy is still throbbing, clenching tightly around nothing when Thor begins to line the head of his cock up with your cunt. He sinks in slowly, cursing as you squeeze down around him. 
 “Better with no condom, isn’t it Peach?” He says hoarsely, chuckling. “Not that that one made much of a difference,” Thor sinks in to the base, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against you as he revels in the feel of you. “Poked it full of holes, just in case.” 
 He doesn’t give you time to mull over the words before he’s sliding out, sparks shooting in front of your open eyes as his cock drags along your walls. Thor groans as he fills you again, loosing your wrists so that he can anchor you to him with both hands. There is room in your foggy head for shame, but it does nothing to stop the sticky sweet rush of pleasure as he fucks into you with abandon, the truck rocking hard with his efforts. 
 What’s worse is that you can hear it, the lewd wet noise it makes as he slides into your welcoming cunt. You whine low in your throat as he pinches your clit between two fingers, rolling it back and forth until you’re twitching underneath him. Thor laughs. 
 “See?” He asks breathlessly. “And you say I don’t know you.” He leans down to kiss you again, swallowing the pathetic little cry you let out as he drags you over the edge. You hate that he’s all around you, in you, everywhere, filling you up until you’re overflowing. 
 When you cum, again it’s with Thor’s tongue in your mouth, and his throbbing cock in your cunt. He moans against your lips as his hips still, and dimly, you’re aware of slow, sticky heat settling in your core. He doesn’t move, his body pinning you to the seat. When he finally leans away, you try your best to pull your t-shirt back down over your bare breasts, staring stubbornly at the back of the front seat. 
 “Oh, Peach, don’t be mad at me,” he says, tucking his fingers beneath your chin. He pulls until it hurts, and you’re forced to look at him. You hate that he’s still inside of you, his cum leaking out to pool on the seat underneath your ass. He reaches down beneath the seat for something, but you can’t quite see it. “We’re going to be so good together.” 
 He produces the nitrous tank and mask, and your eyes widen with fear as you begin to struggle. It isn’t hard for him to push it against your face, though, and you hear a squeak as he twists open the valve. The gas rushes into the mask with a hiss, and it only takes a few panicked breaths before your vision begins to dim.
 “You’ll see.” 
 end
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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The Ceremony (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)
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Summary: You and your dear prince, Loki of Asgard, are finally getting married. But in order for the marriage to be legitimate, your wedding night and consummation must be witnessed...
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: 18+ SMUT Y'ALL ! SMUT! SMUT IN THE LAST THIRD! Voyeurism, loss of virginity, fem receiving oral, p in v sex, dirty talk, loss of innocence kink and some possessiveness kink. But lots of fluff, especially romantic, wedding fluff. Loki is a good protective fiancee/husband. I did wee research on Norse weddings but it's not about the accuracy, it's about the vibes.
A/N: This was written especially for @lokisprettygirl/ @lokisprettygirl22 (if I tag the wrong person, I apologize!) Follower Count Celebration as a submission! Wanted to try something I always wanted to write and get a new piece out there! Enjoy!
Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over (with one small bit inspired by the weddings headcanons! :) ) @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
“The Wedding Night must be witnessed by the court in order for the marriage to be valid,” Heimdall announced.
There was a silence over the table where all of you sat. Your jaw dropped and the look on the face of your intended prince Loki, became pure white. The other faces at the table all remained composed. Though Thor looked down a little, blushing.
Your dear Prince Loki asked you to marry him in his mother’s garden. You kissed him and said yes as you both cried happy tears and embraced. You were not born to royalty like he. You understood that there were certain parts of etiquette that had to be upheld. Traditions that would be honored. And everything you learned so far made sense and didn’t seem too bad or out of place. Bow to the AllFather as king. Use “please” and “thank you.” Watch your words. Show respect to the Allmother Frigga. All of that was common sense.
But this…this was different.
You had never lain with a man before. You and Loki shared heated kisses and embraces, but they were always interrupted before it could go further. Sif would walk in and clear her throat. Frigga would call to talk to her son. And then hearing on the insistence of a future princess being chaste, you thought it was pure dumb luck. After the engagement, both of you agreed to wait. So, there would be absolutely no reason for anyone to object to the marriage.
But the times you imagined what your first time would be like, you never imagined it being watched by others!
“There are…ways around it, but it is how it is done…and Y/N, your parents assured us you are…untouched, yes?” Heimdall asked, despite the slight embarrassment in his tone.
“Yes…yes I am,” you confirmed.
Loki glanced at you, then he stretched out a hand to hold yours on the table.
“We…we don’t have to do it. No one should force Y/N to do it!” he argued.
“First, we must guarantee a possible heir should Thor never have one.”
Thor flared his nostrils.
“Second and more important, we need certainty of the marriage’s consummation. It could risk annulment if not-then you both will not even be considered married.”
Loki moved his chair to be closer to you and wrapped a protective arm around you. You could feel him tighten up. Like he was going to whip out his daggers and fight Heimdall there and then.
“Could I have a say in this? A choice?” you voiced out.
The idea….of people all watching then turned in your head. It was a little nerve wracking. But something else was stirring inside you. Finally making love to the most desirable man in the nine realms as people watched became suddenly…titillating. You felt your lower innards already begin to anticipate it. It was no longer dread…it was excitement.
Loki gripped your hand and arm. Both of you shared a look and then you stared out at them. Faces all turned to you. Odin was quiet and crossed his arms. Frigga only folded her hands, but her eyes were soft. Her mouth half-open as if to speak, yet she didn’t. Thor’s eyes became giant, blue plates on his face, and he listened with intensity. Now they had to listen to you- their future princess.
“I say…we should do it. We will have the bedding ceremony. It’s tradition and might as well follow it. And that way, no one will question Loki being my husband, as he is in my heart already,” you announced.
Loki relaxed- you felt the muscles from his arm and the hold on his hand soften. He even blinked rapidly and began a slow smile.
“I have my consent for the bedding ceremony,” you announced.
Loki looked at them with a nod.
“If she is fine by it, then so am I.” he agreed.
Done and done. Heimdall nodded with a small smile-it was settled with only a minor conflict. The table then moved on to discuss other things about the wedding. One minute you were discussing the consummation, and next there was discussion of what color the bridesmaids would wear, and which roast meat to serve at the feast! When they got up and left, Loki practically pulled you aside. He touched your shoulders, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Y/N. Let me know. You don’t have to please them-you don’t have to let them force you to do anything you don’t want to. Please tell me- you can always tell me your secrets, darling. Y/N- are fine with the consummation ceremony?”
“Why do you ask?” you pressed.
Loki cupped your cheek with both hands. His voice grew intense.
“I swore to you to defend you. And this includes my own palace- I won’t let any of them humiliate you! I’ll kill them if they do!” he declared.
You leaned into his touch, kissing his hand. You gave him a smile. You reached up to touch his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
“Loki…I…I am fine by it. I am…you need not worry. I think it will be nerve wracking, yes. I am not out of my wits to admit it. But it’s also…tantalizing.  I like the idea of people watching us when we do it,” you replied.
You heard him let out a long exhale. Then he wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. You both looked up at each other. You could sense the adoration in his eyes. He was protective-because he cared about you. And that made you even prouder to call him yours.
“My dear lady…and soon my wife…if this is not under any pressure, and your decision…then it is yours and ours,” he said.
You gave him a kiss on the cheek. He flashed a smile that could make Jotun itself melt.
“Then…only a week?” you asked.
“Only a week.” He confirmed.
“But Loki, when I lie with you the first time…Will it hurt?”
He smiles.
“Maybe not…unless you beg me to hurt you…”
❛ ━━━━━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━━━━━ ❜
Seven days flew by. Before you knew it, the wedding arrived.
It was a beautiful, opulent wedding. Flowers decorated the place in every corner. There was going to be an altar, or a hörgr, placed on the throne room on a table. Even that was decorated. There were green ribbons tied around each column and table. After all, you were still marrying a prince! The guests were all bedecked in their finest clothes. Long silk gowns and velvet draping the floors. To make sure there was no doubt that this was a royal wedding.
      Your bridesmaids did their best to calm you in the other room before it began. One squeezed your hand. The other smoothed out the skirt of your dress. Assuring you it would be alright.
It made your mind wander. You were about to lie with Prince Loki for the first time in front of others. It made your heartbeat faster. But no... that was for later. Now you only had to stand by at an altar and make vows before the AllFather. That was all. Nothing complicated.
“I heard that prince Loki himself is nervous! Pacing about the halls in his cape! All because he wants to be good for you! He’s the same as you are now!” one gossiped.
“Really?” you asked.
“Yes, really! Everyone gets nervous on their wedding day, Y/N!”
You did notice a little crumb on your dress from when all of you had snacks of bread, cheese, and grapes to keep you satiated before the meal. You laughed and wiped it off.
Your own gown was a white one- to represent innocence. Virtue. Though now that you were about to become a princess it sparkled everywhere in the long, full skirt. It was as if you were made of diamonds. But there was a touch of sensuality to it. The sleeves fell off your shoulders and revealed your neckline and collarbones. You had to smile at the big of cleavage it did show. To give Loki especially what he had to look forward to. Tonight, and all his nights.
Then it was announced for the marriage ceremony to begin. Your own parents went over to stand by you to give you away. to stand in the front row. To see you, their dear little girl, on her big day.
Servants held out lit candles for everyone. Thor's own seemed tiny in his big hands. Only Loki and Heimdall, who was performing the ceremony, did not hold any. Loki, bedecked in his armor, a smaller version of his helmet (he was worried if he kissed you, the larger helmet would knock down and whack you on the head before everyone watching), and green cape, turned to Thor.
"Brother, do not fret. I'll do the fretting for you!" Thor assured like a puppy wagging its tail. Thor couldn’t whisper if he tried, but his tone of voice was soft.
"How do I look?" Loki asked, rechecking to make sure his armor was clean for the hundredth time.
"Like a groom!” Thor assured him.
"Good..."
Thor patted a large hand on his shoulder. Then at the presence of so many flowers, the god of thunder sneezed a sneeze that could rattle bones into his arm.
      The guests all took their places, standing around the great throne room. They began to murmur like an audience to a new play. Then a few lutes, woodwinds, and a harp began playing. It was finally time.
Down went wedding party. Walking slowly to savor the occasion. They stood in their places before the altar. The guests all smiled brightly.
But none as much as Loki when you walked out.
  You walked down. You wore a veil over your face and saw it through that filter of white. But thin enough you could distinguish everything. It glittered like snow in the moonlight. You sensed that the guests smiled at you.  Your mother and father escorted you down there. You saw the court shifting their faces. Just to get a glimpse of you walking by.
 But you saw Loki at the altar through it. And feelings overflowed your chest to see him.  Despite the trembling in his hands, when you walked out, he instantly relaxed. Both of you locked eyes. You saw a small ghost of a laugh that made his shoulders drop. The gold among his green and black robes seemed to glow even more.
You noticed Thor in his long, red cape and silver breastplate next to his brother. Odin in his own armor and Frigga with her hair done up and standing bedecked in a gold dress and an elaborate necklace beaming at you. Odin looked a little bored, but what did you care? You were marrying the love of your life! You would deal with your father-in-law’s nonsense later.  
As you approached it, you handed your bouquet of flowers to a bridesmaid. Loki was standing taller when you got closer. His cheeks were red. You felt him warm up as you approached him. Then he took the veil and, with his powerful hands, lifted it from your face.
      All the eyes were on you and your own bread was curdling in your stomach. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt it was all worth it. You had never seen Loki beam so happily in ages. Your father gave you a kiss on the forehead from over the veil.  He placed your hand on Loki's. He then looked at the prince. Loki gave your father a wink and then both of you turned to face Heimdall.
You felt the god’s fingers between yours as he held it. You were entering this union together. IT was all you felt. It was like the world was just a buzz. The ringing of bells heard only in the distance. You turned your head to admire his handsome profile, and he looked back at you. For only a second, it was as if the two of you were alone in the realm. Then with an exhale, you both turned towards the altar.
"Dear people of Asgard, we are here to witness the matrimonial rite of Prince Loki, God of Mischief and Y/N. Now-make your vows to each other,” Heimdall intoned with his own powerful baritone, he raised a hand.
You both turned to each other, holding hands before the altar. Loki looked at you with his beautiful, blue eyes, and though they were wedding vows, they seemed to come naturally as if they were words just appearing in his mouth.
"I, Loki, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, take you to be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until only death parts us. Before our family and friends, I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. The protection of my crown, my magic, my sword, and my body. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. I shall respect and love you boundlessly, no matter what may happen to me or what you may do. I shall support and cherish you each morning, day and night.  From this hour, as long as we both live."
The words from him sounded so lovely, you felt a small tear in the corner of your eye. But your smile never dropped.
With a steady voice, you said your own vows back at him. There was an exchange of swords between your families and Loki’s-to symbolize the protection you would give each other. Heimdall’s then brought two rings, conjured by magic. You each slipped a ring on the finger of the other. Perfectly fitting gold bands, golden as his helmet, as light, as warmth. Both of you peeked down at the pretty bands and how they matched each other. For both of you knew, two souls so in love they merged and melded as one.
“AllFather and AllMother, protect and bless them, guide them in their new union…” all began to pray.
There were a few final prayers and a hymn. Incense was lit in honor of Freya, the goddess of love, along with an offer of flowers. Then Heimdall turned you both to face the palace. Heimdall was a serious man, but you heard his voice declaring with joy from behind you.
      "The AllFather and Allmother Now, before all the gods, the people of Asgard, and -I now declare you both-Prince and Princess of Asgard. Husband and wife. Now...seal your vows with a kiss before all."
Loki turned his face to you.  You felt his hands go to your waist pulling you closer. He kissed you there in front of everyone. You felt his tongue push forward. and you let a small sound at the feeling of it. Definitely a more sensual kiss than the normal chaste pecks he would give you in his family’s presence. You could taste cinnamon on his tongue and feel the slight brush of his long eyelashes against your face from how close he was. Then he let go. 
Everyone raised their candles and cried "All praise the AllFather and Allmother. The Prince and Princess of Asgard!"
Then they blew out their candles and applauded. You and Loki held hands as music soared. Both of you walked arm in arm. Glancing at each other like excited children and then each other. Flowers petals were even thrown in your direction as you both made you way down there. Down to the feast.
 The meal was brief. At least, it felt brief for you. Talking and attending to so many people who came over to wish you both congratulations. Loki even made a toast, calling himself the luckiest man in the nine realms to be yours. There was more food than you could name. You enjoyed the foods served that you loved. Loki insisted that you have a break from talking to guests to eat your own food at your own wedding. You ate until you were full, but not surplus to where you would get sick. Good night, if you had to have your wedding night before witnesses, you were not going to vomit.
But the time was passing. Loki looked over at you. He noticed a servant take away your plate.
“My love…are you ready now….for the…the other ceremony?” he asked.
Your heart picked as if you were running, though you sat still. Then you nodded. You brought his hands to yours and kissed it.
“Yes, husband, I am,” you assured him.
Loki looked at Heimdall. He rose and all the happy chatter from the meal fell silent.  
“Now…it is time for the bedding ceremony…” Heimdall announced.
You were led into two separate chambers. Your bridesmaids dressed you out of your gown into a white robe. It was made of lace that was so light on your skin, it was a little cold. But it was beautiful, and you touched the pattern of the fabric of your sleeves to feel it. They escorted you out through the halls. You felt your blood course through you, but you did your best to put on a brace face. But there was some stifled and suppressed giggling from all of them- even you out of your own mixed excitement and nervousness.
You were led back out to the throne room. Now there were torches alight, but it was still dark. The night’s darkness had shone and spread her ink through, and one needed a lit candle to get around. There was a crowd of courtiers, all of whom were wedding guests. But most striking of all- a bed was moved to be there in that room.
It was a canopy bed with light, white drapes. enough room for the two of you to sleep-or rather, to not sleep. Thin as a summer breeze and just as delicate.  Right before the altar and there, the two thrones. The bed itself was surrounded by flowers around it, lovely white roses and a few green ones, complimenting the green sheets and green pillows. Such a bed could only be conjured there by magic, created by magic.
Loki was then given to you. He had his own silk green robe on. His raven curls dangled over his shoulders. You saw a peek of his delicious chest from the V of the robe and licked your lips. He walked up to you. He wrapped his arms in an embrace and then whispered into your ear.
“Are you ready, my dove? Are you ready?” he repeated.
“Yes…yes I am,” you answered.
There were the musicians- the harps, woodwinds, and you heard drums too. They began to play from the corner. The court gathered more lit candles-it was dark. But with music, the candles, the flowers, and the pretty bed, it did make it…romantic, oddly. It could be much worse. Much worse would be a rough, awkward tumbling before your parents.
Loki cupped your face. He looked at you- raw without all your finery. Seeing every bit of you. His eyes did have lust as they wandered to the skin that peeked from your lace, but there was more…he was quiet. His thumb traced over your lips.
“What is it?” you asked him,
You’re so…so…beautiful…so wonderful…” he murmured.
He gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then He then turned to all of them. He raised his arms out, a signature gesture with that smile that oozed charm and mischief. Such a man. No wonder it was easy to love him. And easier to marry him. Now you only had to lie with him and now that seemed easiest of all. His own voice made desire soak through you and you felt your legs squirm, a wetness growing between you as he said the words.
“Now, all of you wish to watch? Then watch. Witness just how much I love this woman. I adore her. I want her. And now that she is my wife, see how much love and pleasure I can give her in one moment…” He boasted.
He returned to you and began to kiss you. But deeper. It was a loud, wet kiss with more tongue. You could taste the feast on him, his breath. He groaned and he kept doing it, his hands wandering up your back, feeling how only one layer separated your skin from his. He removed his lips and voiced.
“And now…now your innocence is mine too…”
He pressed against you. You felt your own body against him, naturally. His hands went down to the tie of your robe. You began to take shallow breaths, your chest heaving. Loki’s eyes fluttered to see just some of how it moved with your breasts and his smile grew devilish. He only took one step away.
“All of this tucked away from me…not anymore now…let me take you in, my dear…”
He pulled on the knot once and it was undone. He then put his hands to your shoulders and gently slid the robe off. Dramatically revealing your shoulders, your breasts, your stomach. It pooled down to your feet in a puddle of lace, revealing all of you before the court.
The eyes were watching each inch of your skin. You raise an arm to cover yourself out of habit, feeling naked on the inside as well as the outside, but Loki gently removed your arms, smiling over your breasts, stomach, hips.
“You’re exquisite, Y/N…the softness…your shape…everything. And now they all will see you…and they’ll kneel before you as they do to me, it’s only what you deserve, my little princess. Let them see you…let me see you,” he whispered.
With a sigh he kissed you again, pressing his tongue further. He put his hands behind your head. You felt him get hard beneath the thin layer of his emerald silk robe. You wrapped your arms around him, you felt yourself moaning. You were pooling more to where you wondered if a bit of your desire would creep down your thigh. You felt their eyes on you-not in judgement. Maybe like Loki said- in appreciation. Seeing you as a piece of art to be admired. Seeing you as Loki saw you. A goddess in your own right, your own way.
He then picked you up- wrapping his arms around you and you put your legs around him. You let out a little gasp and he only chuckled lightly at you. You felt your own folds opening right before his body and you shuddered, and he did too- that most delicate, private part of you now felt against him. Made public. But in a display that was more for him than for them.
He then set you down onto the bed. Positioned to where you were lying down.
“I can’t believe you’re my husband now…that I’m married to a god…” you said softly to him.
He spread your legs with his long, beautiful hands. You peeked and discovered his own cock was getting hard under his robe.
“I may be a god, but I can show you what it is to be worshipped-my hands, tongue, and cock are your acolytes now…” he replied.
He began to untie his own robe to give him freedom.
“And they make offerings, like this…”
He dove onto the bed. He lifted your legs and plunged his tongue inside your entrance. You felt him lick up your walls-gently exploring.  The feeling of him tasting, sucking on each small bit of you. You begin to gasp and moan.  The crowd whispered lightly.
“L-Loki….it…it feels so good…where…keep…yes-oh!” you began to moan as he tasted you.
 You felt his nose and his breath there, cold against your wet pussy. He gave a peck to each part as he climbed up. Up to where the most precious bud of all was found. He began to lick your clit, slowly. But you felt a tingle all around you. You let out another moan for not only the throne room but for the whole palace to see.
“Oh! Norns-yes…please!” you voiced.
You tried to reach your hands down to feel hm, his hair, his shoulders. To never lose touch of your husband. He paused. You could feel him smile against your opening-his own altar.
“Yes-I want you- let them. Let all of them know who it is who gives you pleasure. Let them all know who it is who you belong to now. Let them all know, and anyone who tries to spoil my marriage, that no man can fuck you like I can…no man can pleasure you like me…”
You let out another moan in response. You could feel the eyes of the crowd widening. Maybe they too were a little aroused by this display. This was a ceremony- sacred and necessary. But this time it was…different. Your own pleasure was there at the center. You made another sound that would have made the AllMother herself blush. Loki’s voice rumbled through your body.
He removed his mouth. He then moved to stand up on the floor, towering over you.
You felt as if you were staring to fly when he tasted you, but you never left the ground. But you had no wings that were open. You had your legs.
He then finally undid the knot of his robe. You realized how wet you were. You ached for him. You were writhing, sighing out. You still felt your folds dripping both with desire and the teasing of his tongue.
“Loki…please….I ache for you-I want you, I’m so ready for you-fuck me into this bed and make me yours!” you mewled.
He smirked. He let his robe fall free of the knot.
“A beautiful little innocent begging for me….hm, I have both in one. A princess and a concubine. How lucy am I… How would that beautiful voice scream when I thrust inside her…”
You ached for release. You felt a throbbing inside you. How long would this take? Would you have to touch yourself before he was done?
“Here…take me…take your husband…make me-one with you. Continue this ceremony! You begged.
There were prayers given up by the crowd. Soft but present.
“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace.”
There was no denial that Loki himself was a god from his body. Out came his chest-perfectly chiseled pecs and abdominals. Strong biceps and broad shoulders contrasting and complimenting his deliciously small waist. A trail of dark hair leading down to where his hard cock was against his stomach. It was leaking already-he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Maybe more.
With another devilish smile, he then leaned down and got on the bed.
“Now are you ready, sweet little dove, to take me-your god, your husband- are you ready to be my wife?”
You nodded with a whimper.
He crawled on top of you, taking a look over your body. Beautiful and all for him for the rest of his days. And norns, he was going to take care of it. He kept your legs open, then began to sheath himself inside you.
“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace,” chanted the crowd.
Finally, finally he first entered inside. There was only a little pain-but you let out a shout.
“Oh! Oh-you’re! You’re so…so big! I’m so full!” you cried wantonly.
You could hear the smile in his voice.
“A large cock and a beautiful wife…what more could I want now? Yes- cry out. Tell them how much you love this cock. How much pleasure it gives you, my dear…”
He began to thrust into you. His hips snapping slowly. You were letting out gasps-it felt so good. Better than you could have imagined. You were getting dizzy. You squeezed your eyes shut except to see him. To enjoy the feeling. Each thrust to your insides, to your womb was natural. How he fits you as perfectly as the rings around your finger. A small hymn was being sung by the crowd as the music played. Gentle as a lullaby but instead was not an offering of your virginity to a god of both mischief and desire. But the volume was   matched by your whore-like moans and the grunts of Loki on top of you.
The volume of the song increased. So did his pace.
He picked it up. He lifted your leg to be on top of his shoulder. You could practically hear your skin colliding each time. He began to slam you into the bed. It seemed the altar nearby and each candle was shaking from the power of his thrusts.
“Oh! Oh-my-oh-gods, husband! You’re-oh!” you started to cry.
“Yes…yes bit by bit…I’ll-nrgh-claim you-norns-yes, here on this bed…. Have them-damn-have them all watch-yes-watch you become a wife-gods-watch me -yes-that good little princess, good little wife, good little whore, too-norns-here-taking me-taking me well-“
He then placed you to lean against the tall headboard of the bed. So you sat up, slid you up.
“Darling, uhm-what is-“you could voice.
He wrapped your arms against your waist and hit you deeper. And a finger went down to your bud, and you let out another cry.
You felt the bed shake-you heard the flowers shake with you, petals dropping. The singing and praying and music continued, already overwhelming you with the pleasure of your husband’s cock. And all of them watching you become awakened to the joys of the bedroom before all of them. For them to know how much you both loved each other. And with a gasping kiss, he began to fuck you harder, deeper.
“The-the-the beds! It’s going to-to-to break!” you fretted between each deep, fast thrust. You held onto his chest and kept him close.
“Let it break! Let it! Gods-yes, my little wife-fuck! Giving me everything-norns, gods…”
You were gasping, writhing beneath his touch, feeling it all as he pounded. He was repeating your name, his own hymn in his straining voice.
“My wife, now mine, finally mine-hela-every way mine-should-should have you on the throne too-yes-have you on my cock there, have them watch that too-nrgh!” he grunted with each movement.
And you felt something spinning inside you. You were not going to last. It was all overwhelming you. Sweet overstimulation. The drums were beating, it seemed hard, and his thrusts were getting harder. The harps played and you couldn’t make out the words of the hymn.
He was going at it. Rutting at you-showing both the grace of a prince and the power of a lover. Something was bubbling. Like the wings but about to take flight. You were starting to shake inside. It was growing, growing, you were reaching it, reaching the top. You clutched onto him as you were shaking, practically bouncing on it, the moving bed.
“Loki…I think…Loki I think-I think-I thinkIthink-I’m going to…I’m going to…”
“Then cum, princess-cum for your husband-for them-or-would you-nrg-rather I stop-stop letting you enjoy this!” he hissed out.
“N-no! Please! Please don’t stop! Please! Please-don’t stop! Don’t stop don’tstopdon’tstopdontstopson’tstop-“ you were begging.
He was pounding into you at a faster rate than you thought. He fingered your clip, circles matching the speed of his cock.  He gave began to repeat your name. Like a growl, and then his voice increasing in volume. You were spinning, thrown out of control, bursting up, and up
“My-My prince! I-“
You felt something in you-then you let out a last voice into a scream.
You felt it burst on you. Your first climax. You felt him give another quick thrust and he came too with a cry. Then he held you, his thrusting slowed. You nestled into him. Your pussy was shaking and quivering harder than you thought it possible.
As the witnesses all watched-the members of the court. Feeling this spectacle. Right here in this bedroom. There was a last verse of the hymn. Then a final repetition of the prayer as you felt his seed spurt inside you.
“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace.”
Loki then looked up. You brushed his black locks to see his lovely face. He was all flushed, full of bliss. Enjoying the high as you were. You could feel the coolness of his sweat and his own body heaving as he caught his own breath. He pulled out but remained close to you. He whispered into your ears.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m…I’m okay,” you replied.
He pressed his forehead against yours.
“I love you so much, Y/N. I’m glad. For this…for you…”
You pressed back. You closed your eyes and smiled.
He went back to the group. He offered you the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Warm and safe.
“Give us some water-a rag! Bring us our robes!” he ordered.
He kissed your forehead and held you close.
“You…You were wonderful, sweet Y/N…that was incredible-you did well…” he said.
The robes were returned and there was a wet rag. He cleaned you both up from between both legs. After putting your robes back on, he looked at them.
“I’d like us both to retire, please. Now. She needs some rest after today-and so do I.”
As you walked out, you both still locked hands-anchoring each other. Finally, you were both alone in his chambers. Once the heavy door was shut and you were surrounded by his favorite dark green walls, you both sighed.
He led you to sit down on the rug and made the fireplace start a pretty flame by just flicking his wrist. He brought a thick blanket wrap around the both of you.
“Here…let’s have our own little celebration-just us…wine?”
“I’d love some wine,” you agreed.
He then used his seidr and conjured two glasses of a dark, garnet colored wine. He gave you a smile.
“Here…let’s have a toast…”
He chinked your glasses.
“To the Princess of Asgard….my wife. And the start of our lives together…”
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beheworthy · 5 months
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#anger issues
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littlelokilad · 1 year
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We’re all… fine.
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We be reading it all serious like it’s Shakespeare or something.
Tiktok, Insta and AO3: @littlespaceyelf
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At least credit me if you’re going to repost and screengrab this! Keep my username in! Or post this version:
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𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐆𝐨 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭…
𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝��𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐥𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟑𝟔𝟎
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐜. 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞. 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫/𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠). 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔!
𝐀/𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜! 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐣𝐚𝐳𝐳, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤!
𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 @suzs-fic-library 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @flordeamatista 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐞!
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Your village had never known anything like it, and they were scared. You could understand that, even if you would never forgive it.
A winter so long and cold that it had seemed like it would never end. Frost and ice, but no snow. Death had claimed more than just the young or the elderly, the land had suffered too. Spring had taken too long to throw off the shackles that winter had chained the land with, and too little rain coupled with the far too cool temperatures meant that the crops were not growing as they should - if, indeed, they were growing at all. Your village prayed, they hoped, and they pleaded, hoping that a moderate summer with at least one heavy downpour would at least yield enough growth to see them through the next winter.
Instead, the world became a furnace,
Overnight it seemed, the weather became too hot, far too hot. What little crops had grown immediately died under the onslaught of the baking sun. The lambs and calves and piglets that had been born and were being carefully raised for their meat all perished under the unforgiving sun and lack of fresh water. Yet more members of your village perished under the extreme conditions, and soon there was a desperate cry for the leaders to do something.
But what could they do? The men could not control the weather.
There was talk of sending riders to the nearest kingdom and petitioning for aid, but that city resided over ten days' ride away, your whole village would succumb to the heat if they were to wait for that long. The elders said the village should wait, a storm was sure to come, they always did, and it would please the gods if the faith in their mercy never waivered. There were practical orders to attempt to dig wells nearer to the river, there were some less than desirable requests to sell the younger and breedable unmarried women to the next village over in exchange for their crops and cattle.
On and on the arguments raged, until finally one voice rose from the back, silky smooth and like ice, but if ice was warm…
“The problem lies with the earth. Men cannot help, and the Gods are too high above to care.”
Everyone turned to look at the man, even though all already knew him. The man in the cloak. He had arrived in the winter, almost dead, and had been taken in. He was quiet for the most part, had attempted to help in the fields and he had a calming effect on the horses, but had otherwise stayed out of the village affairs. Until now, it seemed.
“What nonsense is this?” That was the man with the largest farm, and therefore the wealthiest of your village. He was also your father, but that was something you would be glad to remedy if the opportunity arose.
“The earth is where the problems lie, ergo, the earth is where the solutions lie.” The man with the cloak murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but everyone listened. Even your father. “Call upon the earth, offer up life to what comes, and reap the rewards. You reap what you sow, after all.” His green eyes glittered, landing directly on you for a second that felt like a lifetime, “He shall reap what you have sowed.”
“Speak plainly, man, I do not truck with riddles!”
“Very well.” The man with the cloak seemed to drop his mysterious act for a moment, turning his attention to your father with a sneer, “It is not Gods who you need to pray to, it is to the Old Ones who dwell below, and they do not wish for prayers. They desire sacrifice.”
A murmur arose across the square, growing in intensity until you could hear it as clear as day; the village was laughing at the man.
“Ludicrous!”
“Ridiculous!”
“Sacrilege!”
“We have not believed in the Old Ones since the days of everlasting night.” Your father waved his hand in dismissal, “They either do not exist, or they died out, and let us hear the end of this. Now, I think we should consider…”
Your fathers voice droned on, the sun set slowly behind the forests that surrounded your little village, and still, the man with the cloak stared at you, a cheshire grin on his handsome face.
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The following morning you woke to the sounds of screams, of cries, of the sound of pure heartbreak.
The earth was no longer just scorched, it was ablaze.
The long grass in the cornfields danced in the flames that consumed them, the roar of the fire loud enough that you almost couldn’t hear your fathers keening wail, 
“I relent, I relent, please allow us an end to this torment!”
“Do you agree now, foolish man? Do you agree that you must sacrifice one to save the many?” The man with the cloak leant over your father, a leer on his face that made your stomach turn, “You know the old ways. Pick a maiden, the fairest here, and all your land will be ripe with life by the morrow.”
“P-pick? H-how-”
The villagers heard this, and they descended on you. You could hear them, how they had disliked your father almost as much as you, and how this would be a suitable punishment for him, to lose his child as they had lost their homes to the slowly spreading blaze.
You could understand their anger and fear, though you could never forgive it, but at least you could say your father never wanted this, even if he was helpless to stop it.
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There was a place in the forest, it had always felt ominous to you, there were old legends that surrounded the tall tree that sat in the middle of the clearing. The legends spoke of how the Old Ones would crawl from in between the spaces in the bark of the trunk, how they would grow from smoke into something twice as tall as the largest man, how they would surround the maid bound to the tree, and how they would devour her. How the Old Ones would take her life, and give it back to the soil. This was how your ancestors learned to live off the land they grew on.
Take one life, for the many to live.
You stare up at the tree as your village drags you towards it. So tall you cannot see the top. So tall that the canopy was too high for the children to climb up and play on, and too tall for the elders to use their ladders to reach the fruits that dangled but never fell. The trunk was wide, wider than five men, and the roots curled upwards from the soil, like the tentacles of the fearsome sea beast you saw in the picture books. The tree towers over you, over the whole village, it looms like a sentient being come to pass judgement and it will surely find you wanting…
“Father… please…” The tears come then, slow at first, the first touch of rope to your wrists like a trigger, and then they flow faster when your arms are pulled to the sides, stretched around the front of the trunk. Your cheek is pressed harshly to the bark, the ropes bind you so tightly that you can no longer move without pain flashing through your shoulders, your wrists, or the scent of blood to grow from the skin of your cheek, “Why am I the one to be sacrificed? You could stop them, father…”
His face swims into view, just barely noticeable in your peripheral vision, you fancy you see tears swim in his eyes, but you know it to be a falsehood you cling to. This man has given you up, he has no remorse in him.
“I cannot stop this. Please forgive me, my daughter… this is the only way.” The wind picks up, and you cry, you beg, you fight against your bonds, the noise of the villagers, the howl of the wind, the roar of the fire, it all rises and rises and rises-
BOOM
A clap of thunder so loud rings across the clearing, you can feel it shake the roots of the tree you’re bound to. The noise dies, as instantly as it rose, the wind growing, rushing through the surrounding forest like whispers through the town square-
“Rain!”
You can hear it then, what at first is a gentle patter of raindrops against sun scorched earth, which turns to a deluge within a few seconds. Part of you is overjoyed, you’d always loved the rain and storms, but the other part of you is still trying to escape. Surely now the gods had granted the wish for the townspeople they would let you go?
“There is no escape now, little villager.” The man with the cloak whispers into your ear, “He is coming, and He is hungry.” You try to turn your head to say something, but the man is gone, and then you notice the crowd has gone quiet. This silence is deafening. Terrifying. All too soon you realise why.
Smoke the colour of the deep red berries that grow outside your door oozes from between the spaces in the bark. So much comes forth that soon you can’t see anyone or anything, the scent of it reminding you of split fruit and fresh blood. You thrash again, tears falling so fast you could choke on them-
BOOM
The second clap of thunder brings all your fighting to a halt.
You can feel heat at your back. Breath at your neck. Hands at your hips.
“Well… How pleasing.” The voice is deeper than the loudest rumble of thunder, with more power than the lightning that precedes it, you can feel it through your whole body, bringing an ache that alarms you as much as it attempts to soothe you, “Who made this offering?”
“I-I did… my lord…” you can hear your fathers measly voice from behind you, and if fear didn’t hold you more captive than the ropes that bound you, you would be screaming bloody murder at him for the betrayal, “Please… take my daughter, dark lord, take what you will and let my village reap the rewards.” At this, you can hear what sounds suspiciously like a laugh rumble from the demon behind you, 
“Reap what you sow… hmmm… I sow what you reap… yes, I accept your bargain.” There is a sound like when a log cracks in the fire, and then screams, so many screams, and you join in, you can’t help it, you can’t see, can’t move, all you can hear are those terrified bleats of the villagers, and all you can smell is the scent of blood and roasted flesh-
“Run! Run back to your homes lest I cull every last one of you!” The demon bellows, laughter in his voice, “Remember this moment! Reap your rewards and know the cost of bargaining with a demon of Old!”
You think you see the glint of the man with the cloak’s smile, but then it is gone amongst the smoke weaving its way slowly through the trees that surround the clearing.
You’re alone with the demon. You feel his breath again, the heat from his body, the touch of enormous hands to the skin of your neck…
“Yes… very pleasing….”
“Please don’t eat me…” The plea is whispered, your beg for mercy done so quietly so you do not anger the faceless beast at your back, “I did not ask for this…” You flinch when he moves directly behind you, when you can feel him kneel at your back. The immense heat of him surrounds you, there is no change and you know he is a lot taller than even the man from the village who you would mockingly call Giant.
“Eat you, sweet one? Why… of course I will. I will eat you, devour you, savour you as one would savour the sweetest fruits from the furthest lands.” He laughs when you start to cry, “Think of it, sweet one, your village will be safe, they will prosper now, and all it will take is to allow me to slake my hunger with you.”
You’re shaking your head, skin scraping against the bark but you do not feel the sting, you’re solely concentrating on the sensation of the demon's hands as they slide the material of your dress slowly up your legs, exposing the undergarments you wear. Your breath comes in pants, confusion warring with fear, 
“You would only eat me if I were naked? Please, do not linger on this, if I am to die, I wish for it to be quick!” You wail when his hands are removed and your dress falls back to your ankles, “No, please! Please finish this quickly- ah!” Your bonds are snapped, as easily as you can snap a dry twig in half, and you’re spun around to face the monster called upon to sow your death so your village could reap the rewards.
You close your eyes, you do not want to see what hell has spat out to kill you. Shakes overtake your body when you feel both your wrists pulled into one large hand, so big it encloses both of your hands in one with no effort. You can feel the strength in that grip, know it is pointless to fight, and stay as still as possible as your arms are now lifted over your head, wincing at the slight pain in your shoulders.
“Die? Now why would you think that, sweet one?” His voice is surprisingly gentle, and you chance a glance at his face, unable to stop the gasp of shock that leaves your lips when you see him.
The demon is terrifying, he towers over you even as he is crouching on his haunches. Large black horns sprout from his hairline, his eyes are a pure shade of blue you’ve never seen before, and slitted like the feral cats that roam the fields. His hair is as golden as the corn that had been burning, and hangs down past his shoulders in gilded loose waves interspaced with intricate braids which then also are braided into the darker hair that covers his cheeks and around his mouth.
He would be easily over eight feet tall when he stands, he’s broad, and built for power and strength. The shakes start again, your teeth chattering as you finally catch his alien gaze, and you find yourself unable to look away.
“Devour… eat… I wish to feast on what is between your legs, sweet one. If I can make you ripe with nectar, then I will also fill your pretty cunt with my seed. This is what will make the land grow, not your blood.”
“B-but-” your words stutter to a halt when one clawed hand reaches to the front of your dress, thick fingers ending in wicked talons that make a frightened sweat break out along your spine, “Please, God….”
“Call me Thor.” His patience apparently wears thin then, he huffs out a breath, and then tears at your dress, leaving it to flutter to the forest floor, leaving you only on your undergarments. Thor takes his time drawing them down your legs, his slitted eyes fixed on the juncture between your thighs, “Beautiful, as I imagined. Look at me, sweet one.”
You do, tears still falling, the ache still building, but you look at him, fear morphing into lust at the look in his eyes.
“When I let your arms free, hold onto my horns, do not let go, the fall would wound you.”
“The fall? Oh!” The shriek of shock leaves your mouth before you can stop it, Thor has risen to his full height and taken you with him, his hands encircle your thighs easily, and you realise that he is taller than you had thought, much taller. You grab a hold of the black horns that rise from his head, they’re warm to the touch but you don’t let go, not when he lifts you higher, higher…
He stops when you’re over his head, and your own is level with the leaves in the tree that you had been bound to. That doesn't scare you though, what does is the fact that your naked cunt is directly over the demon's mouth, his head tilted back as if to take a long drink, your thighs spread wide and held in place over his face. His eerie blue eyes glitter up at you, and he licks his lips, and then he begins lapping at you. Your eyelids flutter close at the sensation, the fear and the pleasure morphing and swirling into something so pleasurable it was almost unbearable-
Thor slowly pushed his tongue inside you, much longer than a mans, until you almost felt it in your belly, in and out, in and out and, on a trembling cry to the still weeping heavens, you come, shaking and pleading for him to let you go now. His rumble of laughter send yet more shock waves of pleasure through you, vibrating from his tongue, teasing your sensitive inner walls, and you groan as he pulls himself back out on a smacking of his lips, 
“It will be a long time yet before your body is sated enough to take me inside without death,” Thor lowered you so you were face to face, his fangs glinting in the moonlight and eyes flashing like the cats do in the dark. You look down between you, and your weeping starts anew when you see his monstrous erection standing out from between his legs - legs that made you fight against his hold in horror as he turned you around to face the tree, as he tipped you forwards to lay face down across his left palm and his right hand held around your waist, bringing your core back to his mouth so his assault started anew.
Thor’s legs were like bulls, long, hairy, and ending with hooves. A demon, with a man’s appetite, eating away at you until all you were lay across the land, feeding your village.
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The sun was rising when Thor decided you were ready to take his cock, and still it took yet more hours for him to work his way inside. You were half delirious from pleasure, boneless from exhaustion, as limp as any lettuce leaf in his hands as he manoeuvred you into position yet again. Thor had started by rubbing his cock against your drenched lower lips until he decided he was slick enough to start to enter you as several more orgasms were pulled from your lax body. When he started to push inside, you passed out, too much pleasure, too much pain, too much everything.
When you wake, the sky is dark again, and the demon is still fucking you. You can feel his seed dripping out of you, smell it across your skin, feel it coating your hair and taste it in your mouth. There’s no energy in you to cry out any more, just the all encompassing presence of Thor as he grunts against you, one hand on your shoulder, pushing you back against him, and the other holding your thigh open so he can thrust deep.
The man with the cloak smiles above you both, and you croak out something like a whine. Thor doesn’t stop, his fangs graze your neck as he leans over you, 
“You should thank my brother, sweet one, he chose you for me, now you’ll be my bride.”
“Your lands are fertile again, little mortal.” The man with the cloak grins, pointing at what looks like roasted meat left on the earth ten feet away from you, “Death leads to life.”
“Life will reside inside you soon.” Thor roars, lightning claps and thunder booms, and you feel him finally grow soft inside you, “Loki, thank you for the gift.”
“You’re welcome, brother. We reap what they sow, and they sow what we reap.”
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avengerscompound · 19 days
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Chris Hemsworth as Thor Odinson My favorite look in each film
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thorfics · 2 months
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Brodinsons Discourse: Loki as Odin in TDW
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~ I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE ~
MCU fans all know the importance of this scene in the storyline, but there is so much more going on here than Thor giving up the throne and Loki's deception.
Thor: This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now, forbid me to see her, or say she can rule at my side. It changes nothing.
Odin (Loki): One son who wanted the throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?
Thor: Loki died with honor. I shall try to live the same...
Now, remember, one of the last things Real Odin told Loki before his escape was that his birthright was to die. Thor is trying to make sure his father knows Loki was more than just The Trickster and had good in him.
Then, as Thor turns to leave Odin (Loki) calls out: I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune...If I were proud of the man my son had become, even that, I could not say. It would speak only from my heart. Go, my son.
LOKI DIDN'T HAVE TO SAY ANY OF THAT. Thor was already leaving. Loki was in the clear. Why would he bother? IMO He knows he's not going to see Thor for a long time - if ever again - so...
Loki wants Thor to once in his life hear the words from his father that they he always longed to hear.
Loki never did and knew he would never get the validation they craved from their father. The least he could do was give it to Thor.
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dailymarvelstudios · 9 months
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Thor: The Dark World (2013), dir. Alan Taylor
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the-lekhika · 8 months
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I just want to reflect how much the Loki show ruined Loki as a character for me and how much disheartened I was with it.
I had always wanted a spinoff on him, which explored him more. And the Loki show did anything but that.
Do you guys remember how Loki was in Infinity War for like 5 minutes, yet Tom Hiddleston was at almost every media interaction the cast had? The same thing happened in the show as well. They used him to market the show, then sidelined him in his own show. I think that was unacceptable, because they used Loki as a bait to promote a character that I held no emotions for.
Sylvie.
The argument that one does not like Sylvie because they “hate a strong female character/a character with complex arcs” is so pathetic. I don’t think I would’ve liked Sylvie even if she had the most elaborate arc in the MCU (which she doesn’t) because it just wasn’t meant to be about her.
I wanted to see Loki’s story, his journey, and if you take this moment to interject with the statement that “she’s Loki too, just different”, then I say that I wanted to see our Loki, the one who was broken when he found out that he was the monster parents told their children about at night, the one who had plethora of iconic dialogues while fighting the avengers, who was killed only for us to realize that he wasn’t.
Everytime I said that we needed a Loki spinoff before it was announced was not because I wanted new characters, it was because I wanted to see more of the character that was already there, very much beloved by the fans. I wanted them to explore his character in a deeper sense and maybe dip a little into mythology as well.
I think Loki was one of those characters that neither needed a love interest nor was ready for one. I don’t ship him with either Sylvie or Mobius, because it feels like neither of them genuinely like Loki for who he is.
Loki had far more compelling things they could have explored like his jotun heritage, his trauma from the time with Thanos and his magic that is the only memory he has of Frigga instead of his love life.
The whole show felt like it was written by someone who wasn’t the least bit interested in Loki and barely looked into him before creating his female counterpart.
It feels like a disrespect for the fans who were connected to Loki on an emotional level.
Why am I saying this now, after like 2 years since the show came out?
I don’t know, after hearing the news about season 2 releasing in October, I just feel so upset. Tired. I hate this show much because it made Loki so irrelevant to me. A sidepiece in his own show. He went around in ugly costumes and all the regal vibes I had from him just disappeared.
I still remember a time when Loki was on the top of my favorite characters, and I loved him so much. I still do, but I’m not sure if I’ll watch the 2nd season and my 13 y/o self would hate me for this.
I’ve gotten detached from his character and I hate myself for it because Loki was someone whom I adored more than anything else in the fandom world.
Loki is that one character who is loved by the fanon but absolutely despised by the canon.
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lazy-cat-corner · 8 months
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Waiting patiently for when we get this scene where Thor and Loki reunite!
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stormbreakher · 4 months
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THOR: THE DARK WORLD (2013)
bonus for personal reasons:
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