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literaryavenger · 2 months

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Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

1K notes · View notes

smolvenger · 10 months

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The Ceremony (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

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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