About: Loki is forced to pay for his crime by marrying a mortal woman. He is not thrilled about the fact and neither are you.
"I do," you said in a firm voice, his piercing emerald eyes throwing daggers at you. Your held a straight face as he glared at you, his muscles straining beneath his formal Asgardian armour. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening with the next words spoken.
"You may kiss the bride now," rang through the large room filled with people you had never seen before. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone in this room beside the man in front of you. A couple years ago he had tried to take over New York. He had a price to pay for his crimes. And that price was you.
The Allfather would make him marry a mortal woman, because Loki Laufeyson despised them. They had taken you from earth and brought you here. That's how you ended up in a white dress, Loki slowly leaning in, until his lips met yours.
It wasn't a kiss shared between two lovers, no, it was cold, full of hatred and loath. He bit your lip, you gasped in surprise, pulled away. You frowned slightly when he spoke directly into your ear, breath cold against the shell of your ear.
"Serves you well, wife," he snarled. He leaned back and put on the fakest smile you had ever seen and nodded to his mother, who sat perched on the seat, her clapping soon followed by the gawking crowd.
The day carried on slowly, people were dancing in a large ballroom, the Allfather and Mother both seated on Thrones on a dais while Loki and you were standing somewhere at the side of the room.
Your stomach rumbled: you hadn't eaten all day and right now, a whole buffet was spread in front of you. You quickly decided to take something that looked like a big schrimp before you started drooling. You were about to put it in your mouth, but someone snatched it out of your hand and devoured it.
You glared at him.
"I was about to eat th-" He grabbed your wrist and towed you away from the safe corner.
"Were going dancing," he interrupted, dragging you in the middle of the dance room. Your body moved along with his, with him ocasionally stepping on your toes. You couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or if he was actually that bad.
His fingers dug into your waist, for certain leaving marks there while his nails were leaving traces on the back of your hand. You winced.
"Listen here, filthy quim-"
"I'm your wife now," you bit back harshly, purposly smacking the heel of your shoes on his foot. His face contorted.
"Shut it, we're not having a conversation, pet," he growled. "I didn't ask you to be my wife. I despise every one of you." He spun you around, made you lose your balance and smack against his chest, almost tumbling to the ground. He smirked.
"Well I didn't ask for this either, Mr take over the world. This is completly your fault. If you hadn't taken over the world we wouldn't be in this situation." He guided you gracefully around the room, his fingers squeezing the life out of you, but you kept going. "Or if you actually succeeded in taking over our world." You snickered, but the smirk quickly left your face as he dropped you.
He caught you just in time before your head would hit the marble floor, earning an applause from a few men that were watching. You glared at him.
"I will not tolerate you talking to me like that," he seethed, shoving you off the dance floor. His hand clamped around your upper arm as he dragged you out of the room into the never-ending corridors. It felt like he was cutting off the blood circulation in your arm by his iron grip. You wimpered.
