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noodlenerd101 · 21 days ago

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Beware the Wolf || Loki

A/n: I'm not entirely happy with the smut on this, but I pushed through somehow. One thing to remember while reading is that during the Goldberg scene, I used the way the manga depicts his lisp. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): arranged marriage au, gender-neutral reader, Charlotte Reader, Devil Fruit, family drama, sins of the mother, angst, distrust, teasing, dirty talk, understanding, size kink, losing control of ability, oral, rough sex. Words: 5,985.

Tag list: @marsilis @hoo-hoo @jj-ma26 @guillotine-enjoyer @whateverthought

No Minors Allowed!!

I should have known.

The attention is a dead giveaway, shoved down your throat like the island's best confectionery; so saccharine that it rots your common sense and infects your mind. Mama’s attention is a delicacy all her children crave. Including you. So when the truth comes out, you are irritated. Blaming yourself certainly will not soothe the pain, so you spare yourself the pity.

“Don't give me that sour look,” Big Mom orders. She leans forward in her candy-themed throne; the eyes of her Homies watch in silent glee as she chastises you. “Make yourself bigger. It's easier to talk to you that way.”

You suppress a sigh. Activating your Devil Fruit, you grow in height to an appropriate size for her, replacing your expression with a look of aloofness. While it is a useful power, you hate to use it like this. Height is no easy property to master, especially for something so mundane as preventing Mama from putting stress on her back.

“Are you certain it's me you want to do this?” You ask. “I'm not being ungrateful but there are far more suitable replacements.”

The Homies retort to spite you, uttering obscenities.

“Ungrateful shit.”

“Asshole.”

You could be both; you honestly want to be. The temptation to bare your teeth at the woman who controls your life like a puppet on a string is almost too hard to ignore. You are mad; you deserve to express yourself. But in the end, you opt to tuck tail. Disobedience will cost your soul. You slide your hand behind your back, clenching it into a fist. Hopefully, Mama will reconsider, but her mind is set.

“There certainly are, but none I care to expend,” she simply states.

You tighten your jaw. Of course. Expendable; that's an appropriate word for what you are.

“I understand,” you lie. Your Haki gives away your annoyance, however.

Big Mom raises a curious brow, then leans forward in her seat again. The air in the room suddenly feels heavy as her menacing presence swallows you like quicksand. It is almost hard to breathe.

“You do understand the importance of this union, don't you? I won't settle for another setback, not after the amount of groveling I had to do to that stubborn king.”

You understand. But why must you be the one to suffer? You have an island to tend to, a responsibility as a Minister. No, you do not wish marriage on any of your siblings, especially a loveless arranged marriage, but such is the fate of Mama's less-liked children.

Besides, as desperate as Big Mom is to have the power of the Giants beneath her finger, choosing you to bear the weight of a political union is ill-advised. You simply are not spouse material. She could offer better. Thinking badly of yourself puts a bitter taste in your mouth, but it's true. The Giants are going to see how lightly she is taking the union; they are not dumb, and again, she will suffer their scrutiny.

There is another reason, however, that you are against marriage to King Harald's youngest son.

“I do, but–”

“But what?” Big Mom interjects in annoyance.

Her Haki is so suffocating that you shrink back down to your normal height to show her that you mean no disrespect. Even the Homies cease their insufferable chattering. Would she understand your reasoning?

I'm not Lola.

Loki of Elbaph will not accept you. He had turned down Chiffon. You are certain he will do the same to you.

The irritated expression on Big Mom's face urges you to swallow your worries, however.

“Nothing, Mama. I'll leave for Elbaph in the morning.”

Big Mom smiles widely. Her Haki vanishes, a weight off your shoulders that makes you feel much better.

“Good, child. When you return in a week, a grand tea party will await you. Ma Ma Ma!”

You force a smile. A week. That is a lifetime in Hell for someone like you. But what does she care if you suffer for her? You are expendable after all.

–

It's comforting to know, during this stage of the trip, sailing east toward Elbaph, that you are not entirely alone. Mama, to ensure your safety, had sent two of your siblings with you.

The first, standing with you on the deck of the ship near the bow, you almost wish had just remained home. He will not leave you alone, even when it is clear that you are not entirely listening to him.

“You lickity better start listening to me if you don't want to disappoint Mama,” Persospero argues.

He gently thumps you over the head with his cane for the third time. You are tempted to roll your eyes, but to avoid being thumped again, you nod.

“I am listening, Brother Peros. You said to be as sweet as possible. Mind my Ps and Qs in front of the royal family. I plan to.”

He groans as though he is suspicious of you, but does not give a response. Lifting his cane, he gives it a taste. You curl your nose in response; germs must not be a word he is familiar with.

“And?”

You hum. And what? The clueless expression on your face makes him narrow his brown eyes.

“I knew you weren't lickity listening.”

He raises his sticky cane to thump you again, but a calm, yet serious voice interrupts him.

“Refrain from teasing our sibling too much. We're here.”

Katakuri ambles onto the deck from the bowels of the ship, joining you and Perospero near the bow. You give him a grateful nod, then turn to the eldest brother, sticking out your tongue as if to goad him. He simply glares and ignores you for the moment.

“I contacted the king in Warland. He will send an escort to meet us at the docks,” Katakuri mentions. “As instructed, we will remain here on the ship for the time being.”

You frown. There is the kicker. Neither of your brothers are allowed on the island. You will be alone, though, to an extent, you are sure. Katakuri would never let you go completely alone. You glance at him.

“Will I be able to contact you?”

“As if we'd trust you to behave yourself. Kukuku,” Perospero answers teasingly.

He removes a baby transponder snail from his coat and tosses it to you.

“If you need us, you can call us,” Katakuri adds.

You smile at him. It feels better to know that Katakuri will have your back, should you need him. Perospero not so much, but you are grateful to have him along for the trip regardless.

Moments later, the ship docks in Elbaph. What you see both shocks and awes you. It's something you will never forget. A colossal tree rests in the center of the island, growing high into the clouds; so high you can not see where it ends. At its base, near the center is a frozen forest, leading to a grassy plain that ends at the coast. You can make out a mountaintop castle in the forest, but not much else.

A dreadful silence fills the air, and then suddenly the heavy sound of footsteps meets your ears. You stiffen as a Giant emerges from the frozen forest, a woman with long blonde hair. She reaches the coast quickly and stands before the ship, gauging you and your brothers with a sharp expression. It almost feels like a showdown. The air is tense and it's obvious why.

You step forward, offering her your name and your hand. There is an obvious size difference, but it would be rude not to show her some respect. The woman stares at you a moment, as though she is unsure, then leans down and lifts out her finger. It's an awkward shake, but you are glad she recuperated.

“My name is Gerd. We should head on to the castle. My King requested to meet you.”

You understand. Turning to your brothers, you nod to show that you are ready. Katakuri says nothing, but the comforting look in his crimson eyes indicates that he believes in you. Perospero, on the other hand, appears less than enthusiastic.

“This is important. Don't you lickity mess it up.”

You consider flipping him the bird, but to give off a good impression in front of Gerd, you simply nod. There are no goodbyes exchanged, no loving words. The children of Big Mom do not express their care openly, but for once, you kind of wish both of them would have told you how much they appreciate you for not running when you could have. You certainly thought about it.

Departing from the ship down the gangplank, you join Gerd on the shore. She rests her hand on the ground and for a moment, you stare at her in uncertainty. Does she want you to–

“It will be faster for me to carry you to Warland. The bridges connecting the two regions are not suited for those smaller than the people of Elbaph,” Gerd explains.

You hum in understanding, but you still don't like it. Would it be appropriate to use your Devil Fruit instead? You can not directly match the height of a Giant, but she would not have to carry you. It would probably be best to ask the king first. In reluctance, you step up onto her hand, sitting down so that you don't make an ass out of yourself and fall.

Gerd slowly stands and begins to walk toward the tree. You can hear her footsteps as she enters the forest. The frozen air nips at your body, not yet accustomed to the weather, but she shields you with her hand in an attempt to keep the wind from reaching you.

“Thanks,” you say in appreciation.

She seems hesitant to speak to you. A deep uneasy sigh leaves her mouth, jostling your hair, but in the end, she gives in. Her sharp light blue eyes fall on you.

“This union most likely will not happen. After everything Linlin has done, I do not see my people welcoming you with open arms, least of all Prince Loki.”

At least she is honest. You understand, though. Years of bad blood can not easily be ignored. You do not know what made the Giants turn on Big Mom, but you know she is not as innocent as she claims.

“It's no problem if you don't,” you state. “Mama should let this one go, but she is desperate to create a utopia for all races to live in peace together. I'm not sure why it's so important to her, but as her child, I have to at least try.”

Gerd's expression softens.

“I'm sorry you have to go through this.”

“Don't be,” you retort. “It should be me who is sorry. Your people should not have to cater to her or me.”

The conversation soon dies off as Gerd takes you across a wooden rope bridge into the upper region of Elbaph. She, to your relief, unshields you, allowing you the chance to glimpse upon the primary village. It's impressive, an entirely different environment than that of Totto Land. The buildings, for one, are massive; houses and watchtowers made of sturdy wood as opposed to candy and chocolate.

The Giants roaming around look a bit on edge, but their smiles hold no secrets; they do not hide the fear of their souls being taken, not like the people back home. It's comforting and it makes you wish that they had turned you away immediately. You have no idea what Mama wants with this union, but something in the pit of your stomach fills you with dread.

It's fine. So long as Loki turns me down.

At the entrance of a fortified castle, Gerd kneels. You take it as the journey is over, so you stand and leap to the ground, pleased to be on your feet again.

“Stay here. I'll be back to get you once the king is ready,” Gerd orders.

You reply with a brief nod, watching as she opens the door to the castle, sinking into the darkness within. The door closes behind her. In the meantime, you sit on the upper step with your feet dangling off the edge as you stare out at the village. A few Giants spare you a look, but none of them approach you. It's better this way, you reckon.

A short amount of time passes, then the door opens again. Before you can glance back, the shadow of a hand dwarfs you. It's so unexpected that you do not move in time before a Giant grabs you by the back of the shirt, lifting you in the air.

“H-hey. Put me down.”

A deep chuckle is the only reply you get. Whoever they are, leads you into the castle like a mother cat carrying her kitten. You have no idea where they are taking you, more focused on keeping your shirt from choking you to death, but thankfully, the trip does not take long. Behind another door, you see Gerd and another Giant resting on an enormous throne; King Herald, you are certain. The former stares at you with wide shocked eyes.

“Look what someone left on our doorstep,” the Giant carrying you says with a chuckle.

“Loki,” Herald chides.

You hear him hum in disappointment, then he unceremoniously lets you go. You shout in fear, but thankfully Loki catches you in his other hand. A clever ruse. On your back, trembling, you stare up in shock and irritation at him, but he simply sticks out his tongue to mock you. This is him? Prince Loki.

She wants me to marry him?

He is extremely handsome, yes, with long light hair and muscular tattooed arms, but his people skills need work. You understand that you are the child of Elbaph's nightmare, but treating you like a toy is uncalled for. Standing on your feet, albeit unsteadily, you straighten out your clothes, then square your shoulders. Loki tilts his head.

“Oh.”

“That was–”

No. No, no.

Behave. You had promised Perospero that you would be sweet. As much as you want to cuss him for scaring the hell out of you, doing so would only exacerbate the situation. You take a deep breath, relaxing your shoulders.

“Thanks for catching me.” Despite your appreciation, your tone has a bite to it.

Loki hums. He gives you a look of disappointment, but like the flip of a coin, his expression changes.

“I'm undecided.”

“Undecided,” Herald repeats.

What does he mean? You stare at him in disbelief, waiting for an explanation, but Loki gives none. He rudely lifts you again by your shirt, then ambles over to Gerd, handing you off to her. You are never going to get used to this.

“But Loki…” Herald tapers off, then sighs. “A week, son.”

Whether he heard him or not, Loki walks out of the room without a word.

You are in shock. This is not at all what you had expected.

He was supposed to say no.

Why didn't he?

–

It takes three days, three long and infuriating days for you to come up with an answer to an existing question of yours. Why didn't Loki say no?

At first, you had thought that he might have warmed up to the idea of marrying you, but based on the past, and the blatant display of displeasure he seemed to show when you met his gaze, you quickly dismissed it. Then, you had thought that maybe he just needed some time alone and away from you, but somehow, no matter where you had escaped to he always seemed to be. In this time, he went to any length to annoy or fluster you, either by humiliating you or making comments that boiled your blood.

The reason for his answer is simple, you come to realize.

He's torturing me.

With a sigh of annoyance, you flop down on your bed, a frame made of blocks with a foam mattress that Road reluctantly put together for you. Gerd leans down, giving you a look of pity.

“Are you OK?” She asks.

No, you certainly are not. The memory of the last confrontation with Loki is still fresh in your mind. Your face feels heated.

“Did I set myself up for that one?” You ask.

Gerd snorts. “You sort of did.”

Wonderful.

“I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

You could not help it, though. Loki had been itching for a confrontation. You had been down at the river when it happened.

A bright pink salmon several times bigger than you leaps upstream and then disappears within the water’s depth. It's truly unbelievable just how massive everything on Elbaph is. You can hardly contain your curiosity as you rest on Goldberg's shoulder as he prepares a fish net - Gerd claims that he's an amazing cook.

“Do the salmon get bigger than that?” You ask him.

It's been like this most of the day. You ask questions and either Gerd or Goldberg answers you, seemingly unphased by your curiosity. There is still an air of uncertainty around them whenever they meet your eyes, but at least they are kind enough to talk to you. Some of the Giants turn up their noses and ignore you - Prince Hajrudin for one - but you do not hold it against them.

“Shome do. If they shurvive the Underworld below, they will shpawn and leap back up the waterfall,” Goldberg lisps.

You imagine fish as big as ships in the Underworld. It makes you feel a little uneasy with your brothers docked below, but you know they can take care of themselves if the need should arise.

The sound of heavy footsteps nearby catches your attention, but immediately you come to dread looking as you meet eyes with Loki. Even resting on Goldberg's shoulder, amongst the folds of his gray cape, you know he sees you. His tongue slips from his mouth, wetting his upper lip, and then, much to your dismay, he approaches.

Strands of the cook's dark orange hair brushes you as he, too, takes notice.

“Prince Loki.”

“That won't do,” Loki opines. He looms over you, staring into the water with a thoughtful look, then hums. “I know. The best way to catch a fish is bait.”

Bait. You gasp in shock as he suddenly lifts you, dangling you threateningly over the water. The fucker. He's getting off on how much power he has over you; it's annoying. Regardless, you bite back and insult, yanking aside the neckline of the shirt that Road had made for you.

“Put me down, please. This isn't fun for me.”

“That's a shame,” Loki teases. “I'm enjoying it.”

Of course, he is. You tighten your jaw.

“I'm sure you can satisfy your entertainment with something else aside from teasing me.”

“I'm sure I can, but right now, you're the only thing I want to play with,” Loki retorts.

For some reason, your mind goes straight to the gutter. It's his tone; the way his tongue peeks out from behind his teeth as though he might at any second taste you. Swallowing hard, you feel a tad bit warm under his playful gaze. It is not your intention to speak without thinking, but the words like vomit seem to pour out.

“Go play with yourself. You have two hands, don't you?”

The grin on his face falters a moment, then Loki guffaws. You feel like a ball hanging from a string, rocking unsteadily back and forth until his sudden bout of laughter stops. Not even Goldberg knows what to say, staring in confusion at the interaction in front of him. His gaze changes, becoming predatory. Like a lone wolf about to take a bite.

“You wouldn't match up to my size anyway. But it might be fun to see how far I can take you before you break.”

You aren't quite sure if he had said anything after that, but you are certain he left you with an unexpected size kink. By the time you had returned to the library - your temporary room - it felt like your body had been left out in the sun too long.

You are exhausted; this entire situation is exhausting. With a groan, you sit up and face Gerd. The same question has been plaguing you since the day you met the youngest prince.

“Why do you think Loki hasn't made up his mind yet?”

It's an honest question, one that Gerd does not seem to know. She hums with uncertainty.

“That's something you would have to ask him.”

Of course. You sigh. Maybe tomorrow, but certainly not today. You don't think you can ask him with a straight face so soon after the interaction, not while you are drunk on the memory of a spiteful quip.

Unfortunately for you, the question is left unanswered. You start to see less and less of Loki throughout the week until you are six days in. At breakfast, you see him briefly. He wanders by when you are seated between Gerd and Goldberg, telling the former to bring her pet Piper, a giant owl with light and dark alternating feathers, with her during the morning hunt. You consider asking him to come see you when he is done, but in the end, you decide against it. With one day left, despite wanting to know, you figure it does not matter as much as it had on day one.

The question, at the time, slips from your mind and so too does the Prince of the Giants. Until that night.

You are sitting on the sill of the library window, staring out at the vast landscape of Elbaph when the door creaks open. It's not unusual for someone in the castle to wander in during the night when sleep is far from their minds, but normally they knock first. You don't care to peek, expecting a thrall, but when the glass reflects the muscular, yet thin frame of the youngest prince, you quickly glance over your shoulder at him. What is he doing here?

Swallowing hard, you ignore his sudden presence, turning back toward the window. You watch him in anticipation as he rests, legs spread in a wooden stargazer chair. A tense awkward moment passes, and though you had expected him to speak, his question makes you tense up.

“You have a Devil Fruit, no?”

You take an uneasy breath.

“Yeah.”

It's not like it's a big secret. While considered rare, a great many notable people have eaten them. Though oddly, you have not seen anyone on Elbaph with a Devil Fruit power.

“Show me,” Loki demands.

“I can't,” you admit. “I made a promise to your father, the king, that I would not use my power while I'm here.”

Loki whistles, impressed.

“You must be something special then.”

An air of sadness washes over you. No, not really. The reality of the situation is a bit of a letdown.

“It's not impressive. I can increase and decrease the size of whomever or whatever I touch,” you explain. “Including myself.”

Which would come in handy on an island like Elbaph, but promises are promises, something Loki does not seem to care about.

“Show me.”

You tighten your jaw.

“I already told you, I–”

“Do you always do as you're told? Things would be so much easier if you lived how you wanted to,” Loki interrupts. You watch him tilt his head back, as though he is lost in a memory.

He has a point.

But you can't.

“Only those with power can live how they want,” you utter.

Loki snorts.

“So we can agree on something.”

How ironic. You stand with a grunt, turning toward him. He rests his head against the backboard of the chair, lazily watching you as you do so. It's hard to deny, but he looks tempting, so tempting, you feel a bit overwhelmed.

“Did you really come here to ask me about my Devil Fruit power?” You ask while tilting your head.

“Maybe,” Loki answers. His grin widens. “I'll tell you if you show me.”

He's persistent. You sigh in annoyance. Does it honestly matter though? Aside from your curiosity, it satisfies nothing.

“I'm not that interested.”

His humor fades and though his expression becomes aloof, he straightens in the chair.

“Oh. Then I guess you won't be interested to know I am in favor of the marriage proposal.”

What. Why? You knit your brows.

“You can't be serious.”

“You'll never know,” Loki states.

The nerve of him. With an irritated grunt, you climb down the sill, then use your power to increase your size. It's a known fact the Giants of Elbaph are around 20 meters tall, and though you can grow much taller than Big Mom, you still pale in comparison, which you soon learn, as Loki stands to gauge you.

“Is that all?” He asked tauntingly.

“I don't have awakened powers yet. 13.50 meters is as tall as I can get,” you admit.

Mid chest is as far as you can reach.

“We made a deal. Please answer the question,” you state.

“Did we?” Loki asks. He hums as if to say ‘I don't recall ever doing that’.

Closing the gap in a heated rush, you place the palm of your hand against his chest.

“I told you how my power works. Unless you want to be the one looking up at me, then I suggest you tell me why.”

Loki brings up his hands in defense. He seems more humored than scared, to your annoyance.

“Hey now. I was only joking.” His abs flex, and though you are flustered by this action, you keep your hand where it is as if to warn him. It gets worse when his tone changes, becoming lax. “As far as I can tell, you don't actually want to go through with the arrangement.”

“That's…not true,” you attempt to lie. “I do want to marry you.”

Snorting, Loki takes hold of your wrist, lifting it above your head.

“Is that right? Because the entire time, you've been here, you've done your best to avoid me, and I know better than to believe that you were just giving me space,” he explains. “As desperate as your mamma is, she would have you try a lot harder.”

He's right. She would. Wooing him is what she would want. Or to turn yourself out to him. You tighten your jaw.

“I didn't because it wouldn't matter. I'm…not Lola. You never would have said yes to me.”

At the mention of Lola's name, he frowns. You wonder if he still thinks about her from time to time, about how she rejected him. In a way, you are a bit envious of her. She wanted to live her life freely and marry who she wanted to. You aren't sure you could ever disobey Mama like that.

Why couldn't I?

The woman clearly did not care about you. She had the right idea, to unite the races of the world, but her dream had become more of an obsession. Her gluttony and greed knew no bounds.

“You're a bargaining chip,” Loki states.

Hearing it out loud from the mouth of someone else just feels…heart-rending. You tighten your jaw. Regardless, it's true.

“Don't you think I know that?”

Loki bends to your ear. You aren't sure why, but his tone sounds almost wicked.

“What if I said you don't have to be? Agree to marry me, and you can live as freely as you like.”

You don't understand. He should not want to marry you, a child of Big Mom.

“Why?”

Loki grins. His tongue mischievously slips from his mouth.

“Because I don't like to see that woman get her way, and something tells me you don't either.”

The entire kingdom will be at war if you flee the wedding, but perhaps that is what Loki wants. But why? Because of Shanks, the Yanko who protects the island. Or because Loki knows he can beat her. Either way, it's a terrible idea. The consequences are too great, but there is something about the promise of freedom that hangs over you.

Under Big Mom, it's not possible.

“I want to live my own life.”

As free as Lola.

As if your words of rebellion light a fire in him, Loki releases you and runs his fingers down the length of your spine. It tickles, prompting you to arch your back, but more so, it feels good, too gentle for someone like him. Your heart races as you come to realize maybe you like how warm and defiant you are around him.

“You have a silver tongue, you know.” And muscles I'd love to bite, you opt not to mention.

“Oh,” Loki coos. “Trying to flatter me, are you?”

“No. Just hung up on what you said at the riverside,” you breathe.

To be honest, you haven't been able to think of much else aside from just how he would break you.

“It might be fun,” you echo back at him.

Loki snorts.

“Is that the aspiration of your mamma?”

He is going to kill the mood if he keeps spouting off about Mama. It's her aspiration to bring the Giants into her country. You don't have to sleep with Loki to achieve this, but you have a feeling he already knows. It's as you told Gerd; he loves to torture you.

“You talk too much.”

Loki fakes a pout.

“Do you wish for me to shut my mouth that badly?”

At this point, it doesn't matter if he does or doesn't, but to tease him, you answer.

“I honestly don't think you can.”

Pulling you closer, to your shock, his lips touch yours for a brief moment. When he leans back, he pokes his tongue out between his lips as if to say ‘Be careful what you wish for’. As it happens, this is exactly what you want.

“That's a start,” you state.

It's at this point, you realize you had bit off more than you could chew. Everything after that progressed so fast. It had started with a rough kiss, then moved into a sloppy make-out that sent shivers down your spine.

In a warm haze, you remove your clothes, losing yourself to salacious thoughts the moment Loki slides his pants off, revealing his cock to you. Unfortunately, you do not get to take in the moment. He presses you against the nearest bookshelf; the musty, lightly sweet scent of old books fills your nostrils.

With another brief, wet kiss, Loki hooks your legs over his shoulders and stands. The shelf to your back erases the fear of falling, but still, you bury your fingers in his hair to keep yourself steady. You have a feeling, however, that your attempt will soon be in vain. A pregnant silence looms in the air as you wait, anxious and in need of his attention. The moment it comes, you sigh in relief.

Loki gently tastes your sensitive skin as though he's testing your limits. It's when your back arches and your thighs tighten around him that he devours you. In an instant, your worries fade; you can hardly concentrate on anything but him, the lewd wet noises coming from between your thighs, and the way that he makes you feel.

Desperately, you want this pleasure to never end, but you are a fool for hoping. His calloused fingers tease your hole, one easing inside, then another to prepare you. The way you stretch to take him drives you feral. The first coherent thought that comes to mind sends you spiraling over the edge. You tighten your jaw, trying not to make a noise but your attempt is in vain; your body feels electrified. If oral feels this good, how will he feel inside you? Will his cock ruin you?

With a whine, you push against his head, pleased when he parts from you. While it is not terrible, the overstimulation is a bit too much.

“You did well, my betrothed,” he coos.

“Stop talking,” you utter, narrowing your eyes.

Loki chuckles. He sets you back on your feet, wobbly at first, then leaves you by the bookcase to rest on the stargazer chair, knees wide apart, giving you a teasing glimpse at his cock. Even at a height that will make this easy, you can tell that it will still be intense. Your heart races as he motions with two fingers for you to join him, the two fingers you are certain were inside you moments ago.

Breathe. I can take him.

You stride in confidence toward the chair, straddling the Giant's waist. Comfortable, you lean against his chest, capturing his lips a third time as he readies you, an action you are thankful for, especially when the head of his cock catches at your entrance, threatening to penetrate you.

It happens slowly, to your relief. Your body tenses as Loki raises his hips, easing as much of himself into you as he can. It's a tight fit, but one that is not too unbearable. You take a deep breath, remaining as still as possible. To you, it feels like losing your virginity all over again; the careful steps, the nervous anticipation. It's comical.

Once you are ready, you set the pace, rocking your hips deliberately slow. The muscles beneath you tense, eager but at your mercy. You offer Loki some relief, bouncing your hips, but then spitefully like a selfish god, you take it away, returning to the same slow and torturous pace as before.

It isn't all fun for you either, to be honest. You want to be fucked hard, left numb and satisfied, but the desperate look on his face tempts you to continue. Another round of inconsistent teasing passes before all the power you have over Loki gets torn away. You should not have tempted the wolf.

Warm calloused hands seize your hips. Loki eases you down, filling you, then bounces you on his cock, raising his hips to intercept each thrust. You can hardly keep up with him. After a few seconds of trying, you give up, allowing him to use you however he wishes. The most you can do is stimulate your sex; the combined pleasure makes you melt. Wave after wave courses through your body, growing stronger. A thin sheen of sweat covers you as you desperately hang on. Whatever sanity you have left vanishes the moment you lose control of your ability.

Your size wanes, a head or two shorter than before. Honestly, you are not sure. All you can tell is that the cock inside you feels thicker. The lewd sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room and the image of your hole stretched to its limit are enough to push you over the edge. Arching your back, you come hard, lost in pleasure, body trembling. For a moment, you swear you lose all sense of where you are.

When reality sets in, your thighs and stomach are coated in release, from both you and Loki. The man beneath you grins, leaning your breathless form against him. Your walls feel bare and worn, throbbing in protest. You hum.

“That could have been bad,” you utter, referring to your slip-up.

“You'll have plenty of chances to get used to me,” Loki retorts.

If anything, he's humorous. Sitting up, you give him a serious look.

“I don't know what you’ll be getting out of this marriage, aside from the thrill of angering Mama, but I agreed only because you promised me freedom.”

Loki grins. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Have a little trust in me.”

If only you had known how much trouble in the future those words would get you. Perhaps you would have declined. Perhaps not.

#favs <3

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