As I exit the bathroom, the steam from my recent hot shower dissipates into thin, wispy clouds that vanish into the air.

Clad in a towel that envelops my body snugly, my hair still damp, I find myself humming the infectious tune that's been lingering in my mind throughout the day.

With a spring in my step, I approach my dressing table, eagerly looking forward to indulging in my beloved floral-scented body lotion. However, a strong sensation of being observed halts me in my tracks, as if someone's gaze is delving into the depths of my soul. Before I can turn to address the source of this eerie feeling, the familiar tune playing in my mind is hummed aloud, and I quickly identify the voice behind the melody.

Slowly, I pivot around, and just as expected, I discover Loki, lounging nonchalantly on my opulent, four-poster bed, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

I narrow my eyes, fixing him with a piercing gaze, and confront him with a curt question, "What are you doing in my room?"

He merely grins.

"Should I summon the guards to remove you, or are you capable of being a good boy and leaving quietly for once?" I rest my hands on my hips, showing him that I mean business.

Loki leisurely straightens up, his unwavering gaze locked onto mine as he perches on the edge of my bed. "Oh, don't be coy, darling, there's no need to play innocent. We both know you do not prefer good boys." His smug smile creeps wider and he rises to his full height.

With an air of confidence, he initiates a deliberate advance towards me. Each step carries with it a predatory aura, his movements betraying an untamed instinct that declares him as the hunter and me as his prey.

With determination, I maintain my stance, refusing to let his sudden appearance shake me. But as he stops mere inches away from me, erasing any ounce of personal space, my resolve begins to waver, and I momentarily forget about the restraining order that is in place. I should have known, having been acquainted with Loki for quite some time, that a mere piece of paper decreeing that he should stay away from me would be utterly ineffective in keeping him at a distance.

With a tender gesture, he raises his hand and gently brushes aside a damp strand of hair that clings to my face, tucking it behind my ear with a delicate touch. "I've missed you, kitten. The time spent apart from you is sheer torture," he murmurs, his voice laced with longing.

My heart quivers within my chest as memories of the love we once shared resurface, recalling the poetic and sweet words he used to whisper. Though they were merely uttered words, they possessed the power to melt my heart.

Swiftly, before he embarks on a beautiful sonnet about all the ways in which he could get lost in my captivating eyes, I gather my strength and take a step back, determined not to let his words sway me.

"You'll have to become accustomed to the torment," I respond firmly, holding my ground. "Now, should I raise my voice and summon Frigga, alerting her to your violation of the restraining order?"

He released a frustrated huff, his eyes rolling dismissively in response to my warning. His sweet words usually work.

"Threatening to call mother is beneath you, darling. But if it gives you some satisfaction, go ahead and yell. I have no fear of her," he challenged, crossing his arms defiantly to emphasise his lack of concern.

I gaze at him, studying his seemingly fearless posture that conceals any trace of trepidation. However, my keen observation catches the subtle bob of his Adam's apple, revealing a nervous swallow. A triumphant grin creeps across my face, relishing the knowledge that my threat has indeed unsettled him. Such a clever trickster, but his facade is up, his cunning mask has slipped.

His expression quickly changes when he realises that I am onto his game. Just as I am about to enact my plan to call for Queen Frigga, the one person he truly fears, his strong hand abruptly clamps over my mouth, stifling any sound that could escape. I find myself forcefully pinned against his body, my attempts to scream smothered against his palm as his arms encircle my body tightly, rendering me unable to break free.

"You are one truly stubborn little kitty cat, do you know that?" he remarks, his disdain evident in his tone. "Calling for mother would only lead to my banishment, and if I were to be sent away, who would then pleasure you so skillfully?"

His words linger in the air, weaving their way into my thoughts, causing me to momentarily cease my attempts to escape his grasp. In this suspended moment, paused within his arms, I sense the heat of his smirk, the smugness emanating from him as he revels in the satisfaction of having me struck motionless.

"That's right, you're beginning to understand," he adds, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now, when I remove my hand, will you promise me that you won't scream?"

My heart quickens its pace as I contemplate his request for silence. If I were to scream and summon the guards, they would swiftly arrive to remove him, banishing him to a distant place where he couldn't easily reach me. The question arises within me: is that truly what I want? Do I genuinely desire that?

Star crossed lovers...

That phrase, that cursed term, echoes in my mind, and a surge of frustration washes over me. Spoken by the elders themselves, it serves as a constant reminder of the barriers between Loki and me. It represents the societal constraints that deny our union, circumstances beyond our control that dictate our paths.

The reality is that our love can never fully blossom, forever confined by the forces that conspire to keep us apart. It is a bitter truth that I have reluctantly accepted, but one that still stirs a deep sense of resentment within me.

An overwhelming surge of sadness engulfs me, as if the floodgates of my heart have been thrown wide open. The deep despair that I had painstakingly buried away unearths, clawing its way out from the depths of the emotional grave I've created. It feels as though all the progress I had made in freeing myself from the agony of losing him has been undone, and I am left to grapple with that familiar ache once again.

Though I am aware that his banishment would provide some respite, making it easier for me to process the grief and move on, I find myself unable to fully embrace that notion. Deep within, there is a yearning, a need to know that he is still around, even if it is in the periphery of my life.

The touch of Loki's lips against the back of my head fills my body with warmth. Attuned to my innermost thoughts, Loki has always possessed an uncanny ability to understand my emotions, effortlessly deciphering the unspoken thoughts that swirl within me. In this tender moment, his kiss carries a message of reassurance, a silent promise that everything will ultimately be okay.

With a hesitant nod, I acknowledge his plea for silence, assuring him that I will not make a sound once he removes his hand from my mouth. Without hesitation, he lifts his hand, freeing my lips from his grasp and granting me the freedom to speak again.

As he observes my compliance and the absence of any outcry, he offers a praise, expressing his approval with a remark, "Good girl. I always did like when you were submissive. Don't get me wrong, it's enticingly arousing when you become bossy in bed. But there's a unique intensity that comes when you fully surrender to me. When you submit to me fully, that's when I know that you are mine."

The mere utterance of those three little syllables, "you are mine," triggers a response between my thighs. An emerging subtle ache, a longing in my core, beckoning to be sated by the comforting presence of his cock. The longer he holds me in his arms, the more I feel myself getting wet, my body preparing for the intimacy it has missed.

Damn his words, which carry a potent impact.

He inhales deeply, savoring my presence like a cherished fragrance. A low growl escapes his lips upon exhaling, making me keenly aware of his ability to perceive me, to detect the aroma of my escalating desire that seeps from between my legs.

Rather than pulling his hand away entirely, it persists in its exploration, gliding down my figure and following a course southward. A shiver courses through me as his cool touch connects with my exposed skin, slipping beneath the towel I have draped around me and advancing toward my most delicate region. I catch my breath as his hand halts, and he leans in, his lips gently brushing the edge of my ear as he speaks.

"You shaved, what a delightful surprise, kitten." My pulse quickens as his whispered voice warms my ear. The playfulness in his tone adds an electrifying edge to the situation, intensifying the tension between us.

A sense of panic engulfs me as I struggle to resist the allure of his touch. I can feel myself teetering on the edge, on the verge of uttering words that race through my mind: 'I'm not wearing any panties, so you can slide in whenever you want'...But I know I must resist the temptation. I must refrain from speaking those words, no matter how tempting they may be.

Desperately seeking an excuse to break free from his grasp, I recall my pressing obligations that existed prior to his unexpected arrival in my room.

"Loki, I'm going to be late. I have to leave," I insist, my voice tinged with urgency, hoping to convey the importance of my departure.

"You're not going anywhere, kitten," he asserts firmly, his hands gripping me tightly, keeping me in place. "A shaved pussy demands to be eaten the same day, otherwise it's like eating a little cactus."

Suppressing the urge to laugh at his words, I make an effort to free myself from his grip, but in the process, his finger catches on my towel, causing it to be pulled away from my body. I freeze, suddenly exposed and vulnerable, and quickly spin around to face him, stark naked.

A flicker of surprise dances in his widened eyes as he stares at my bare body, casting an intriguing glow upon his features.

"Hand that back!" I snap, holding out my hand expectantly, demanding the return of my towel.

A mischievous smirk graces his face as his eyes leisurely scan my entire body. "You're not going anywhere until you assume the position, sweetheart," he playfully asserts.

I growl in frustration, narrowing my eyes into a fierce frown. But he remains unfazed, his smugness unyielding.

"You know you're taking a huge risk, don't you?" My remark causes him to look at me with a quizzical expression.

"How do you mean?" he asks, genuinely curious about my statement.

"Well," I begin, "Is it a wise decision to anger a voluptuous, plus-sized woman whom you desire to sit on your face? Devouring a curvy woman has a risk of serious consequence; harm could very well happen, by accident, of course."

My intention was to instill fear with my indirect threat, hoping to deter him from his desires. However, his lips curl into a lustful grin, and it becomes apparent that my words have only heightened his craving for me. I needed to elaborate further.

"Loki, given my thick thighs and curvaceous body, I could easily smother you. You could die between my legs and I'd get away with it, justified as self-defense, especially considering your breach of the restraining order."

Loki's grin broadened even further, but this time he advanced closer.  "I know your threat is meant to place fear in my heart. But darling, what you're actually doing is threatening me with a good time. I'd gladly embrace that fate. Dying as one happy god. In fact, when I approach my final moments, after our very long life together, I implore you to sit on my face and extract every last breath. For me, Valhallah is exactly what lies between your thighs. Now get ready and assume the position, or do I have to materialise my shadow forms to restrain you again?"

I exhale a resigned sigh, realising that my attempt to dissuade him with the notion of death by smothering was futile. He embraces and adores my body, particularly my squidgy belly that defies the conventional expectations of a typical princess's size. Both he and I are unique, not conforming to the ideal standards of beauty that prevail in the realms.

I can see the excitement grow in his eyes as I make my way towards the bed. I notice him biting his lower lip, unable to contain his lustful admiration for every inch of my body. A smile tugs at my lips when he wolf whistles, followed by audible commentary as I walk, affirming my beauty and dispelling any lingering self-doubt that may have arisen from our time apart.

"She moves with elegance, a living masterpiece, commanding attention like an exquisite painting that yearns to be admired, to be showcased for the world. Yet, she belongs only to me, she is mine, and I stake my claim. This invaluable treasure is reserved solely for my eyes, to be cherished in private. And now, with my tongue, I shall create verses of poetry upon her skin before imprinting my ownership, forever sealing her as mine when I sign my name upon her canvas."

A fond giggle escapes my lips as I listen to his words, appreciating his poetic nature that never fails to make me feel beautiful and unashamed of my body. It's something I've yearned for and missed deeply.

Settling onto the bed, I wait eagerly, but my anticipation is met with a disapproving click of a tongue. I turn my gaze towards Loki, understanding his expectations all too well.

"Tut, tut, tut, sweetheart, you know exactly what I desire," he reminds me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With an eye roll, I start to take the position he wants, getting on all fours and sensually crawling up the bed, ensuring he has an unobstructed view of my ass. Pausing within the middle, I hear his command. "Spread your legs for me, darling. Let those thighs part like they harbor a grudge against each other."

Familiar with Loki's preferences, I widen my legs, creating enough ample space as I anticipate his next move. As predicted, I sense the mattress sinking beneath his weight as Loki, now undressed, positions himself between my legs, his head coming to rest directly between my thighs.

I observe him from my elevated position, and he meets my gaze with a lustful smile before shifting his attention to my exposed pussy. His mouth moistens with anticipation, and eagerly, he grasps my ass, applying pressure.

"Now, lower down, baby girl, and allow me to taste you once more. I want the sweetness of your nectar."

I comply with his request, lowering myself down and guiding his face between my ample thighs, causing it to vanish from view. A gasp escapes my lips as his adept tongue immediately begins its tantalising work. I cannot deny the fact that this man possesses a remarkable skill in the art of oral pleasure, effortlessly evoking intense sensations from the very moment his lips make contact with me.

The overwhelming desire to immerse myself in the sensation of smothering him, to experience the ecstasy of hearing his moans and witnessing his writhing beneath me, consumes the majority of my being. However, a small but persistent part of me screams in protest, reminding me that I am once again succumbing to both of our desires, disregarding the rules set by our elders to keep us apart.

Our love is supposed to be forbidden. Both of us kept apart because together we are two passionate souls consumed by an intoxicating love that eclipses our responsibilities as royals. I am meant to assume the mantle of Queen, preparing to ascend and suffer the throne of Vannaheim, while he, soon to be the Jotun king, embraces his role as ruler of the Jotuns.

The merging of Vannaheim and Jotunheim is perceived as an unnatural occurrence, the union deemed detestable. It made know difference to the realms that we were truly, madly and deeply, in love.

Despite this, we defied the expectations and remained united in secrecy. However, our love could not remain hidden forever, and the truth of our relationship came to light. This led to the imposition of a restraining order, a measure implemented by a collective of leaders.

For what felt like a long time we were separated, agonising for both of us, a form of torture that tested our resolve. Yet, it wasn't long before Loki persistently sought my attention, undeterred by the barriers that had been placed between us. Until now, I have resisted his advances, but the weight of my loneliness has grown overwhelming, and the longing for his presence has become unbearable.

It is not merely physical intimacy that I crave—his touch, kisses, or voice—but rather the essence of his being. I am drawn to the tumultuous ocean of chaos that resides within his eyes, and I am willing to dive into it. For our connection is rooted in love, a love that persists despite all obstacles.

It seems that Loki, too, feels the power of this bond, as neither my attempts to push him away nor the royal decree could prevent him from finding a way to be with me.

My memories are swiftly pushed aside as Loki's fingers grip my ass harder, urging my lower body closer to him. His muffled moans reverberate against my wet pussy as he indulges in me, drinking my juices that only he can demand. In response, I surrender completely, submitting to the pleasure he evokes in me.

I feel every intense wave of tidal pleasure crash over me, overwhelming my senses to the point where I find myself gripping the headboard tightly, my nails leaving imprints on the wood as I restrain my urges to vocalise my ecstasy.

I hear a gasp of relief as Loki momentarily releases his hold on my clit, granting us both a chance to catch our breath. In that brief respite, our eyes meet, and a shared intensity lingers between us.

"Release your voice, my love. Let it echo my name as you reach your climax," he implores. "And in doing so, I will understand that the decision to keep us apart was not born of your own volition."

My heart aches as his words penetrate my being. Deep down, he was aware. It was I who proposed the restraining order, feeling compelled by the leaders who warned me that if I did not relinquish my love for a Jotun, they would ostracize Loki upon his ascent to the Jotun throne. Jotunheim would face isolation and rejection. I couldn't bear the thought of his magnificent kingdom being shunned, especially knowing the remarkable leadership Loki would bring, not only for his realm but for all those who would seek his wisdom and guidance. Yet, if I remained by his side, none would dare approach him.

"Please, my love, grant me the gift of hearing your voice scream my name. It matters not that the suggestion originated from you. I understand that it came from a place of kindness within your heart. But you were mistaken, my beloved. Because without you by my side, my whole world is painted black. Only when we are together do we find true fulfillment."

With his mouth already glistening from my arousal, he dives back in, resuming his oral skills with fervour. Pleasure courses through me, causing uncontrollable moans to escape my lips. However, I quickly bite down on my lip, suppressing the urge to call out his name. I know that if I were to speak his name in that moment, he would never relent. He would sacrifice everything to ensure that we remain together. Though I yearn for our union and desire it with every fiber of my being, I am also overcome with trepidation.

I know that by submitting to him fully means embracing us. Accepting the fight for our union. Any attempts to come between us again would awaken a haunting darkness within Loki, a side that exists behind his enigmatic eyes that has yet to be witnessed by anyone. The realms would tremble in the face of such darkness.

"Say it! Say my name!" he shouts, his fervor evident. I close my eyes tightly, on the precipice of ecstasy as his skilled tongue enters me, delving deep and curling, expertly teasing my pleasure points. He knew the catalyst to ignite my pleasure.

I groan, my voice turning into a scream as the sensations overwhelm me. His hand firmly grasps my love handles, using them as a guide to push me further onto him, intensifying our connection. His nose brushes against my sensitive clit, and my pleasure erupts.

I can't contain myself any longer. I scream out his name.

"Loki!"

A smile forms upon his lips, pressed against my wetness, as he savors my release. His devilish chuckles reverberate through me, amplifying my bliss. I am left trembling, a mess of sensations, as he drinks in my essence before swiftly flipping me onto my back. He leans over me, his cascading hair tickling my face, and he gazes at me in awe.

"I will forever cherish the sight of that rosy flush on your face after I have brought you to your bliss, darling," he murmurs.

I exhale, and a sweeping sadness swirls over me. "Why do you put up with me Loki? Why do you still fight for me when you know it was I who bargained for a restraining order?"

"Because you are fire, and I have known only coldness throughout my existence. I will always fight for you, sweetheart."

A smile graces my lips, touched by his genuine sincerity. "Then, my king, we must brace ourselves for the challenges that lie ahead, for our union will not be readily embraced."

He cups my face and gazes down at me. "If our path demands that we traverse through the depths of hell, let us stride confidently as if we own the very realm itself, hand in hand." His words filled with a determined devotion ignites a newfound resolve in me.

This god, this poet who serenades my heart, belongs exclusively to me. He is unequivocally mine, and I am willing to set ablaze every realm to ensure he remains mine.

  ✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦

Some Loki pics, because, well, why not? 😏