Kinktober 22 - Breeding (Loki)
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Smut warning, dub con/noncon
(Possible proof reading errors)
Length: One Shot
“Why am I here?” you're struggling against the two S.H.I.E.L.D agents with the glazed eyes
Loki prowled in front of you, still dressed in his ceremonial robes. He'd said nothing to you since you'd been brought here, kicking and screaming from your ancestral home in Europe.
“Sit,” he says simply.
“I don't want to.”
“SIT!” he commands and you flinch, your eyes flicking to the sceptre with the razor sharp point at the end.
You didn't have the advantage here. You'd have to play nice for now.
You sat demurely on the chair picked out for you and tucked your legs neatly to the side. You didn't want to seem afraid, you wanted to be defiant.
“Leave,” he says to the agents and they obey without hesitation. “Now, you're asking why you're here? I'm in need of some legitimising. Running this despicable excuse for a planet has been more difficult than I first envisaged. Midgardians don't accept those not of their world.”
“I wonder why,” you murmur and he shoots you a very nasty look.
“I've scoured your countries for your royalty. If I can get a half Asgardian, half Midgardian heir, it will solidify my hold.”
“You want to get me pregnant?” your mouth falls open, horrified. “No!”
“You seem to be under the impression you have a choice,” his eyebrow rises.
“Why me? I'm from the smallest country out there. Nobody will respect you for knocking me up. I'm not exactly going to play the good princess in public either.”
He holds the sceptre up, “This will make sure you play your part of the fawning partner and you will be my queen, not a princess. I think this is an opportunity for you to rank up in the world, in fact. I imagine you were destined to marry a cousin or some such antiquated tradition.”
“But why me?” you stress.
“It's precisely because you're an insignificant princess. Do you know what your beloved Avengers are doing right now? Hmm? They anticipated my plan. Your 'heroes' are out there sterilising every female royal they can find but they overlooked you. I'm sure they're realising their horrible mistake as we speak but...alas. Too late. You're mine now.”
“They're...they're doing what?” you blink.
Surely he was lying. Maybe some of the more morally dubious superheroes might do that but not people like Captain America...right?
“You heard me,” his eyes search yours, revelling in the disappointment they found there. “Now...on the bed.”
He points to, what was, Tony Stark's emperor sized bed near the balcony. Fear grips your body but you try not to show it.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then either I use the sceptre to make you compliant or I simply overpower you. You cannot surely think a mortal would outbest a god? I would prefer you were willing though.”
So your choice was to do this willingly or have your control taken away completely and perhaps forever.
“Glad we can come to an understanding,” he smirks and you resist the urge to strike him.
You go to the bed, sitting down on it and waiting as he makes his garments disappear until only a loose set of dark green trousers are left. His body puts you in mind of marble statues, regal, hard and unyielding and for just a second, you're mesmerised by the lithe frame of his torso.
“Warming up to me already?” he cocks his head. “Good. If you're willing to enter this contract with me of your own volition, I can give you anything you've ever desired...plus I'm an excellent lover I'm told. Take off your clothes.”
You stand up, almost nose to nose with him as you let the nightgown you'd been captured in fall off your shoulders and pool onto the floor.
“I consider myself lucky I got the most attractive royal,” he laughs, surveying you with a predatory gaze. “Lie down. This will not be the torture you think it will be.”
You move up the bed, laying there, determined not to give him an ounce of pleasure at your reactions.
You expect him just to get on with what he wants but instead he starts kissing up your calf, delicately holding it in his hands, mapping a journey up towards your inner thigh. You're confused, knowing he could just simply fuck you and achieve his goals but he was taking his time and...
He was making it feel good.
You didn't want to like it, you wanted to keep your dignity but it was becoming difficult when his tongue reached your core and there was a groan from him as he delved it into you, tasting you. He dragged it up towards your clit and this is where you became panicky.
He was getting you too close. You could already feel the fringes of your orgasm pulling at you.
When you looked down and made eye contact with his intense gaze, something in your stomach just clenched. Knowing you had a god between your legs who was servicing you when he didn't have to but the circumstances....the fucking circumstances...
“Don't think too much,” he moves away slightly, recentering his lips around the little bud. “Just enjoy it.”
You tried to hide when you came, clamping your mouth shut and stiffening your limbs to stop them from thrashing but when he slipped his clever fingers into your pussy, stretching them out, you couldn't hold back the noises.
He knew just where to press to prolong the pleasure, to make it seem like you'd never come down until eventually you were a rumpled mess, trying to regain your breath as he discarded his final piece of clothing and crawled on top of you.
“Not so bad, was it?” he chuckles. “You're very receptive. I enjoy that. Now I'm going to take you, I'm going to fill you full of my seed and we shall bear witness to the union of Asgard and Midgard.”
He lines up his cock and you're not even looking any more, too dazed still so when he pushes into you, his length is a shock and you end up clutching onto his arms as you adjust. He seems to relish the contact.
“Hush, you will get used to it,” he coos softly, almost lovingly and that confuses you even more.
He starts gently rocking and it's too intimate, it's too close. Why were you even entertaining this? You were supposed to be just lying back and thinking of your country.
But he had a way of pulling that notion, that fantasy of 'love-making' to the fore and it was hard not to get lost in it. Loki wasn't just some conquering brute claiming the spoils of war, he wanted you to enjoy it.
“I must confess, the idea of seeing you round with my child excites me greatly,” he whispers in your ear. “The delicate swell of your belly.”
His hand reaches between you, stroking your stomach softly as his pace quickens a little.
“We will make beautiful children,” he continues. “They shall inherit the nine planets and our legacy will begin.”
He hits a spot inside you which makes your legs wrap around his back and he takes advantage of your head turning towards him to kiss you deeply. Caught up in his flowery words, you kiss him back.
Loki was not the person the world had come to fear. He was not the tyrant you had anticipated. The situation was horrifying but he was making it bearable.
“I'm going to fill you up,” his voice is getting raspier, more strained as his thrusts become harder. “I'm going to fill you so full of my seed it'll drip from your tight quim.”
Realisation hits about the situation the second he says those words. He's going to get you pregnant, he even enjoys the thought of getting you pregnant but you're not ready. You didn't expect yesterday that you'd be here right now with the victor of the Battle of New York wanting to knock you up.
“Be still,” he stops, brushing your hair back. “Look into my eyes and tell me you believe that I would give my life to protect our child.”
A fierce sense of fatherhood already resided in his features. There was no doubt he was serious.
“I believe you.”
“Do you believe I wouldn't hurt you now, now that you've willingly chosen me? I'm not the monster my brother paints me to be. I will look after you. This is not what you want, I know but I will make it easy to live with.”
Better the devil you know? You were left with the prospect of Loki's protection or forced sterilisation by people you thought you could look up to. Maybe they'd even get rid of you completely. You're sure the royal family of the larger neighbouring country hadn't been seen for a few weeks.
“I agree to be your queen,” you say levelly, coming to your conclusion. “And bear your child on the condition you never use that sceptre on me.”
“Agreed,” he nods seriously. “I didn't want to resort to it in the first instance. Now...where was I?”
He grabs underneath your ass, pulling you flusher to him as he fucks you deeper than before, grinding against your already oversensitive clit. You're finally submitting to him, kissing him, running your hands over his body as he groans loudly, his cock twitching within you as he empties himself.
True to his word, you can already feel his cum running out of you, pooling on the bed.
“And I look forward to doing that every day until the seed takes and even after then if you'll allow,” he pulls out, lying next to you.
He turns onto his side, hand on your stomach as he traces around it before flattening his palm on your skin and sighing contentedly.
“Am I truly safe?” you whisper.
“Of course you are,” he frowns a little before breaking into a smirk. “I told you, you're mine now. I protect what's mine. The Avengers will never touch you. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, my queen.”
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Fantasy Guide to Succession Systems
We usually write royal families based on the modern or medieval ones of history. We almost always fall into the trap of Male to Male succession because... that's usually what is done. We get confused over who is next when you kill off a cast of characters or have a strong female lead and we fall into a whole. But no longer. Here are some succession systems you can use in your fantasy setting.
Male to Male Primogeniture
This is when the firstborn son inherits everything outright from his dad. His son will inherit after him followed by his grandson and so on so forth. This is our main system of succession in real world history and fantasy. This can be an easy one to work off since there are so many examples. However, just as the real world is run by genetics, so will your fantasy land. There is a 50-50 chance of having a daughter or a son. You can't always bank on having a son. And if you have a surplus of sons, it can lead to trouble down the road.
Female to Female Primogeniture
There are some cultures that are strictly matrilineal, with inheritance passing to mother to daughter to granddaughter and so on. This can be another easy line to follow as it is basically the system up above just gender reverse. Examples of this succession can be found in Africa such as the role of Rain Queen where only females are eligible to take the throne and the Undangs of Negeri Sembilan in Asia. There are the same kind of issues such as the possibility that a daughter may not be born.
This is a Gaelic system for passing on titles and lands. The Tanist/ Tánaiste is the title bestowed upon the candidate chosen to inherit the throne who acts as a second in command. The eligible candidates would arrive at a chosen place and there would be a grand discussion on who gets to be named the heir. The candidates don't have to be a blood relative or even an ally of the current ruler. This was practised in Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Mann and was also sort of practised in the Holy Roman Empire. The Vatican uses this to some extent though they might forgo all the drink... OK probably they do. There is no real issue with this, the best candidate is chosen and everyone has a say. Of course in politics, some force might be used in order of specific favourites to succeed but hey its nothing more than what's going on in modern politics.
This is another patrilineal inheritance system only this one is slightly more confusing. In this system, the succession goes from monarch to their younger brothers and then the monarch's own sons. The monarchs children don't inherit until the older generation have all died. Agnatic seniority bars all female descendants and their descendants from the throne.
The Ottoman Empire's Version of the Hunger Games (or just what siblings are like)
The Ottoman Empire had a fun succession order. Oh, perhaps not order. You see when a Sultan dies, his sons fight over who gets to be the next Sultan. The Şehzades (the male issue of the Sultan) will turn on one another, often having all their brothers and half brothers massacred by guards armed with bowstrings. This fratricidal system did work in the Sultan's favour as his throne was safe from claims of rivals. Yet if you get rid of all your heirs and you can't sire one and you die... well bye bye dynasty. The Şehzade who usually comes out on top will be the one who is backed by the military. This practise became less awful as years went by and the brothers of the Sultan were imprisoned in the harem in chambers called the Golden Cage or kafes. Some went insane and some actually succeeded the Sultanate.
The Romans didn't follow blood but rather the surname. Like the tanistry, a Roman noble/emperor would take stock of their relatives or even perhaps acquaintances and pick the best one. They would be given everything in the will including the right to inherit. Julius Caesar picked his great-nephew Octavian and in turn Octavian, now Augustus Caesar, chose his step-son Tiberius. If you go back through the Judo-Claudian dynasty you will see that most the heirs were adopted and not all came from the same bloodline.
Hope this helps @anomaly00
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