Title: The Christening

One-shot

Summary: You and Loki 'christen' Thor's throne during his coronation.

Author: hiddlesherethereeverywhere

Character: Loki and Female Reader, Reader's Perspective

Genre: Romance, Smut

Rating: M. For sex, oral sex, language

The royal people of Asgard know how to party and this is the largest, wildest one they've thrown by far. Of course, you wouldn't expect anything less of Thor's coronation. Just a few hours ago, during the actual ceremony, they had been all business. But now, it was time to let loose and everyone was doing just that.

You scurry alongside one of the many long tables, picking up plates as fast as you can. You balance them expertly in the crook of one arm. You've been cleaning up after rambunctious Asgardians since you were a young girl, just as your mother had before you, and her mother before her. You were born a servant but your mind wasn't made for servitude. Since you were a child, you've been berated for your quick wit and sharp tongue. As you've gotten older, you've learned to play the part but inside you have a building rage.

Music begins to play. For a brief instant, your eyes darkly scan the room. Beautiful men and women pair off to dance. Their intricate finery gleams in the room's atmospheric lighting. Satins and silks shimmer with each graceful movement. You have a hard time understanding how people like this are able to rule anything. They herd into these parties like mindless sheep to celebrate everything and anything like their very existence is a victory.

In stark contrast to their fine attire, you've been dressed plainly to mark your station. Categories are important to Asgardians. They like to know who is significant and who is beneath them by a single glance. There are literally hundreds of servants dressed exactly the same as you roaming the Great Hall. But unlike them, you're wondering what it would be like to rule.

"That looks terribly dull." A low, husky voice from behind you interrupts your thoughts. You turn slowly, taking care with the china in your arm.

Loki stands before you; a wry smirk dons his thin lips. He looks perfectly statuesque dressed in green, gold and black. Masculine leather detailing runs along the waist and sleeves of his tunic. A dark green cape flutters down the length of his back, resting on the floor. His raven black hair is slicked close to the scalp and tucked behind his ears to accentuate high cheekbones and a pale complexion. His beauty is unlike the other Asgardians. He's dark, different, dangerous.

Without hesitation you recite the usual line, "No, my Lord. It is my honor to serve you."

Loki causes unease for both servant and Asgardian alike. It's impossible to categorize him. He's not like them but they can't treat him like he's different. Instead they wait until his back is turned to cast their condescending glances. It is a common response for those who are afraid. But you aren't afraid of him. You're drawn to his ambiguity.

Loki's hand smoothly reaches for your chin. You don't recoil. His green eyes shimmer mischievously as he examines your face. You've been taught to lower your gaze away from your superiors but something inside you won't allow it this time. You stare back at him with equal intensity.
"You don't mean that." It's not a question. He releases your chin but continues to hold your gaze. "You're not like the others, are you?" He elegantly waves a hand towards the other servants clearing the table.

"It seems we have that in common," you say, lifting your chin defiantly and mimicking his motion but towards the Asgardians. You're both outsiders. Born in the wrong place to the wrong people.

It's obvious you've intrigued him though you aren't sure if that's good or bad. Other servants have lost their heads for less but there's something about him that shatters your inhibitions. It's as if his very presence commands it.

"Dance with me," he orders. He offers you a slender-fingered hand in invitation.

Suddenly, there's a burning inside of you. You're not sure if it's the desire in his eyes or the unease you'll cause the moment you step out onto the floor with Loki by your side. Either way, you're interested. You take his hand. The grin he flashes you is entirely devilish. As you turn towards the room, you let the plates in your grasp nonchalantly fall to the floor. Though the music is loud, the cacophony of shattered glass cuts through it.

Loki's grin widens as the sound draws immediate attention. The revelers whisper to their partners, their eyes straying to your direction. Loki uses the moment to his advantage. An aura surrounds your body as your simple servant's clothing transforms into an elegant gown of green and gold. It skims tightly to your curves and sits low on your bosom. Slits trail up either leg, dangerously close to revealing too much.

You're both center stage now as well as the center of attention. Loki leads you out in front of him. One of his large hands slowly trails down your back before coming to rest just above your rear. A shiver runs down your spine at his touch. He presses you forward until your body is tight against his and immediately your head is swimming. As he begins to lead you to the music, you're thankful for the distraction.

Loki makes no move to hide his gaze as it settles on your breasts. "Mmm...you look ravishing," he says.

"Thank you. I had a great stylist," you joke, "although it does seem as if he forgot the undergarments." That wasn't a joke. You can feel the silken gown sliding against your bare legs and mound with each step. The sensation ignites a heat below your waist.

Loki offers a wink and says, "Oh, he didn't forget. He made a judgment call."

Every eye is on you. Off to your right, up a small flight of stairs, both Odin and Thor glare down at Loki. As usual, he's managed to steal their moment by causing a commotion. Thor jumps up from the throne and motions Odin to follow. They make their way into the crowd to mingle, an attempt to win back the attention they lost. It occurs to you that Loki has more power than anyone can imagine, it's just too subtle for them to understand.

Loki doesn't acknowledge his brother or father. "This celebration is yours now," he says, pulling you closer. His face lowers until it's alongside yours. When he speaks, his hot breath caresses your ear. "What else do you want?"

You speak without thinking, "To rule. To be Queen."

Immediately, you regret it. Loki tenses in your arms. For years you've buried these forbidden thoughts and it's taken only moments with him for them to surface. You've grown too bold with him. Just when you're certain there will be consequences for this misconduct, you feel a stirring below Loki's waist. Within moments, you can feel his erection pressing against you. Something stirs in your lower stomach as your arousal heightens in response.

When he speaks, his voice is low and breathy, "And what is your first command?"

You lick your lips and pull back enough to meet his gaze. Something in your brazen personality has ignited his passion. He's hungry with lust.

"To have your head between my legs." Your heart is pounding. You aren't sure if you've crossed the line or if there even is one. All you know is you're growing wetter by the second. And you want him. Gods, how bad you want him.

Loki raises his chin to peer down at you. His jaw tightens and you can hear his breath coming faster. "It is my honor to serve you," he murmurs.

He abruptly stops dancing and pulls you towards the exit of the Great Hall. You resist. It's not what you want. Loki is about to object until he catches your line of vision. "A Queen needs her throne, wouldn't you agree?" you ask.

Loki doesn't answer. It's the least composed you've ever seen him. His chest rises and falls noticeably. His lips part to exhale. You realize he wants it as much as you do. You pull him towards the stairs. When you glance back, you see there's a perfect replica of the two of you dancing slowly in time with the music. You know that no one will be able to see what you're about to do. Loki will make sure of it.

At the top of the stairs, you drop Loki's hand and turn to him. You shimmy out of your gown and as it drops to the floor it transformers back into your uniform. You stand still. Below, Asgardians dance and are none the wiser. This is what it feels like. Power.

Loki's eyes are glued to your naked body. You know he can feel it too, that sense of supremacy. It's driving him insane. He stares at you like an animal stares at its prey but doesn't make a move. He likes this game you're playing.

Finally, you turn. Your backside sways as you walk slowly for the throne. You ears catch Loki's quiet moan as you sit. Everything about it feels so right and so wrong. You rest your arms on either side and slowly, deliberately, open your legs in invitation. "Now...Kneel."

Loki is on you in a second. As you command, he kneels before you. He lifts your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between them. His long, black hair tickles your thighs on the way down in the most delicious way. His face hovers there for a moment. The warmth of his breath caresses your inner thighs. The heat between your legs evolves into an aching throb. As his mouth makes first contact with your cunt, electricity shoots through you. His massive hands run the length of your thighs as his tongue finally probes into your folds. First he covers a wide area, seeing to every crevice without engaging your clit. He finds your opening, thrusts his tongue in and out until you moan. Then his mouth moves up. Slow. So slow it hurts. Your pelvis thrusts towards him but he still refuses. He heads back down and though it's the best thing you've ever felt, your body aches for release.

"Please, please..." you moan. You can feel Loki's smirk grow. He emits a small laugh that sends vibrations through you. When you can no longer take his teasing you grab a fistful of his hair and force him to look at you. Through ragged breathing you command him. "Make me come."

It's what he was waiting for. Your command. When he goes back down, his tongue flicks softly against your clit as if to test your reaction. Your body jolts and a load moan escapes your lips. This satisfies him and he increases speed. He laps at you continuously with varying direction and pressure. Sometimes he moves his tongue in small circles, pleasuring the area surrounding your sweet spot.

You grasp the edge of the throne so hard your knuckles turn white. Your body shivers at his every pass. Your pelvis lifts eagerly to meet his mouth. Pleasure builds in your stomach, coiling lower and lower until it peaks between your legs. His name tears from your lips and he takes it as a sign your close. His fingers press into the skin of your thighs and he focuses all of his energy on your clit. Just as your almost there, Loki peers up at you through hooded lids, his mouth still busy. His green eyes are wild.

When you come, you come hard. Loki's tongue trails to your slit as your walls clench. He laps up your juices as if his life depends on it. Your every muscle tenses with the effort. Time seems to slow as your body finally quakes in release. Your gasping for breath and still shaking when Loki finally surfaces. He comes at you savagely, kissing you hard. You taste yourself on his lips and the warmth is already building again.

You stand up on trembling legs and press your naked torso tightly to him. The leather on his tunic rubs against your nipples causing you to moan instantly. He pushes you away with an animalistic growl as he tears away his own clothing. His body is lean and gorgeous; his skin so pale it looks like porcelain. Your eyes flick down to his impressive cock. It's so hard and ready. You grab his bare arms and turn your bodies so his back is to the throne. Roughly, you push him back so he stumbles and has to sit.

You stand before him and let him devour you with his ravenous stare. A devious smirk forms on your lips. "What is a Queen without a King?"

You climb atop him, straddling his lap. His hands caress your bare back. You throw your arms around his neck and his mouth immediately finds your breasts. He divides his attention between them, kissing and biting before finally taking a hard nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicks and swirls around it, causing you to cry out. By the time he moves to the other, you're so wet you can barely stand it.

You lower yourself onto his cock, taking his full length with ease. Loki releases your breast; his head drops backwards as you ride him. You eyes trace the curve of his exquisite neck up to his strong jaw and it intensifies your excitement. Within moments, he starts to thrust, unable to control himself. His cock pounds into you. Your hands tangle in his hair as each thrust brings you closer, closer. Like an animal, he bares his teeth and digs his nails into your back. His groans are husky and breathy. He sucks air in through his teeth as if he's in pain and you know he wants to come.

Heat coils in your own stomach. You grab the back of the throne for more leverage and cry out. The muscles in your cunt tighten and clench around him as you come again. You shudder as the warmth inside you explodes and disperses through your body. Loki grunts and opens his mouth slowly to issue a long, low moan. His cock pulses inside of you and one more hard thrust empties him into you.

You stare at each other, breathless, hearts pounding. Below you, the Asgardians clap as a song finishes playing. From across the room, you see Thor headed back towards the stairs. "Your brother wants his throne back now that we've christened it," you say. You feel a sick sense of pleasure at the idea.

Loki laughs. A wide grin spreads across his lips. "He can have it for now. He won't have long to enjoy it. We'll make sure of it."