There Are Arranged Marriages. There Is No Love

“So. This is my bride.” Thor’s meaty fingers reached out, grabbing Loki’s pointed chin and turning it slightly. His gaze followed the tribal markings over Loki’s face, sneering even further at the way the raised white lines curved around his glistening red eyed. His chin was released, Thor moving to undo the snaps of his shoulder armor.
When Loki didn’t move to follow, Thor growled, tugging at the shoulder of Loki’s dress. “Undress. I want to get this over.”
Loki continued to stand there, fear coursing through his body as he watched the armor fall from Thor’s shoulder. The prince let out a huff of annoyance, once more reaching out towards Loki’s wedding garb. He grabbed the material, yanking it roughly away from Loki’s hold. It slide down quickly, pillowing around his feet in a pile of far too much fabric. He was naked underneath, his lanky and swirled blue skin bare and shivering in anticipation. He wrapped an arm around his lower form, doing well to cover himself now bared for his groom to see.
“Get on the bed.” Thor’s voice was rough as he finished his own undressing.