#desperate loki

A light flush creeped up your neck and you looked at the floor. “I… I am not… it is forbidden, Your Highness.”

He smiled mischievously. “I am aware.” With a couple of long strides, he was sat at the table, drinking his wine and drinking you in. He gestured to the seat in front of him. With a nod, you sat. You shifted to get comfortable, which was almost impossible in your current situation. Your situation involving both the Prince. And your increasing physical need. You crossed your legs as you sat. He quirked an eyebrow.

“You have a busy day today?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The chambers all on this side of the palace.”

“And you are keen to return to your quarters afterwards, I’m sure.”

You blushed a little as you looked at him. “Being in your company is wonderful, Your Highness. Though, yes. There are many tasks for me to complete.” Your hand rested on your stomach, and then your thighs. You shifted again.

Does she…? Does she need to? Oh. This is delicious.

He glanced to the side, then back up at you, the stirrings of arousal in his eyes. “I expect you are desperate to be relieved of your duties here.”

You blushed. “Yes, Your Highness.” He doesn’t know. He can’t know. There’s no way he knows.

“And why might that be?”

“There is no particular reason, Your Highness. Keen to complete my tasks, I suppose.”

“Come now,” he waved a hand at you as he placed an empty goblet on the table. “Firstly, you know how to address me when you are in private with me. And secondly, you are yet to give me a mistruth in your two centuries of service to me. I do not wish for you to begin to be insincere now. So I will ask you one more time. Why are you in such a rush to return to your quarters?”

You looked away from him as heat spread into your cheeks. “That is where the amenities are, Prince Loki.”

Ohhhh. She is in need. Desperate need, if my observations are correct.

“There are no facilities on this side of the palace?” He was genuinely curious. In truth, he hadn’t thought about it at length. Though he had noticed over the past year, all of the chambermaids appeared to be in a terrible hurry, and even you seemed to not wish to linger in his chambers longer than necessary. Something had changed, likely an order from above. It was all making sense now.

“We are not permitted to use the royal bathing chambers.”

“Even in an emergency?”

“That is correct, yes.”

He chuckled darkly. “That hardly seems fair, does it. Being denied access to the necessary amenities, forced to hold your liquor, simply because of your status.”

You frowned. “Prince Loki?”

“Come, my dear. You serve me during feasts and ceremonies.”

He can’t know. There is no way he knows.

He continued, a smile playing on his lips. Bastard.

“You think I haven’t noticed? Your furtive glances when I begin to show my discomfort. The little flush on your neck when I decline one more glass of wine.” The pads of a fingertip circled the rim of his empty goblet. “Those hurried little footsteps when I leave.”

Oh God. He knows.

He chuckled again. “Oh yes. You think I don’t notice. But I miss very, very little my dear. Even when in dire need.” He looked at you, his eyes boring into your soul. “It was you, wasn’t it. Who followed me after the last banquet?”

You nodded. There was no point in denying it. You crossed your legs in the opposite direction. He’s going to make me hold it as pay back, isn’t he.

“I sensed it was you. I detected your… scent. I suppose you attempted to watch through the keyhole, didn’t you? You would find of course, nothing. I had sealed it, certain I was being watched. You waited outside my door, I suppose?” His nostrils flared.

Oh God. He’s going to kill me.

“And what did you hear?”

“Prince Loki?”

He stood, slowing stalking his way towards you.

Yep. Definitely going to kill me. Strangulation, probably. At least he’s strong. It’ll be fast.

“Tell me.” His voice was low. Seductive. “Tell me what you witnessed.”

“I….” You jumped as his hand brushed down the back of your hair, the presence of him overwhelming you as he stood behind your back. You froze, unable to respond.

“TELL ME!”

You flinched at his yell, then gasped. Your hand rushed to your center. You were dry, but only just. He laughed once again. Then he spoke quietly. “Come now. Tell me how much you overheard. Describe it for me.” His voice lowered pointedly. “And don’t hold back.”

“I… I, erm… I heard you… I heard you curse.”

“And then?” His arm grazed down your arm.

“I heard the rustling of metal and fabric. I heard you hiss in frustration.”

“Go on.” His hand gently stroked along your jawline, his palm cupping your face.

“I heard a gasp. Ragged breathing. A groan.”

“What did you hear next, sweet girl?” He gripped your chin firmly, turning your face to him as he lowered down to your level.

“The sound of…” God you couldn’t say it. It was too embarrassing. Too intimate. Too… improper.

“It is improper, isn’t it. So tell me.”

Is he reading my thoughts? Fabulous. He knows what I’m thinking. I’m completely screwed.

“I heard the sound of your release, Your Highness.”

The low rumble of his laugh sent shivers through you. “Then you waited until I was complete. And that’s when you knocked on the door. Isn’t it, little one.”

“Yes.”

“I remember the look of you. So flushed. Those large eyes that I love so much, wide with fear.”

That he loves so much?

“Was it fear, I wonder? Or arousal? I remember how you stood there, asking if I was alright. You told me I had seemed in a rush to leave, and you wanted to serve me anything I required. Those were your words, were they not.”

“Yes. Yes, Prince Loki.”

He stood behind you and placed firm hands on your shoulders. “Stand for me.” You obliged.

“And when you returned to your quarters that evening,” he paused as his finger traced over your collar bone. “did your mind stray to me?”

Oh God, don’t think about it, don’t, he can read your thoughts…

“Yes. I can. But I want to hear you say it.”

Damn it.

“I… yes. Yes, Prince Loki. Yes I thought of you that evening.” You couldn’t make eye contact with him. His body was right in front of you. He ghosted a finger over your lips.

“Good. It would be a terrible shame if all of this was unrequited.”

Your head shot up to look at him. “Unrequited?”

“My thoughts wander to you too, little one. You haven’t noticed my glances, have you?” He walked around you, circling you like a wild animal stalking its prey. “You haven’t seen how I picture you, how my eyes roam over you, how my lascivious thoughts are so overpowering, they threaten to spill over into my eyes? How I can barely hide the impact you have on me?”

I mean, honestly, you had. But you figured it was wishful thinking. Or perhaps you were overworked, tired and possibly having some type of Asgardian mental breakdown.

He stopped circling you, and stood in front of you. “The unnecessary tasks I give to you.” He walked forwards, forcing you backwards. “The late-night requests for a beverage. For sustenance.” He walked forwards again. “The questions I ask. They attention I pay to your replies. The way I remember each response, and reference it when I speak with you. The way I…” He took one more step, and your back was against the wall. “The way I ensure you are taken care of in your quarters.”

You looked at him, confusion furrowed through your brow. That was him? The soft blankets, the high thread-count linens, the extra snacks and books. You assumed it was reward for a job well done.

“It was me, my dear.” The words lingered in your ear, his mouth beside your face. You squirmed and wriggled against him.

It’s bad. It’s getting really, really bad. Norns I need the amenities.

He stepped back and looked at you. You crossed your legs and leaned forward.

“What a state you have gotten yourself into, little one. How are we going to resolve this?”

You really, really didn’t want to grab yourself in front of him, but felt a hand shoot to your center as a particularly strong urge hit you. He couldn’t hide the delight that spread on his face.

He’s not going to make me hold it. He’s going to make me empty myself in front of him.

“Please.” Your eyes were fixed on the ground, your face crimson. “Let me go.” Your voice dropped to a pleading little whisper, one that shot straight to his groin. “Please, Loki.”

His head tilted to the side at the way you addressed him. Well. That is certainly new.

“I-I know I shouldn’t... shouldn’t have called you that, I…”

“Shhh, sweet thing.” The backs of his fingers traced over your cheek. “My dear. I am not a monster. Nor am I so perverse that I would have you suffer for my gratification. I will give you three options. That sounds fair, does it not?”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “Yes, Prince Loki. Thank you.”

“Aw sweet girl.” He brushed away your tear with his thumb. “So delicate.” His thumb then traced down your jaw and over your chin. “Option one is as follows.” He straightened his back and walked away from you, beginning to pace slowly. “I permit you to leave, and you continue with your duties. Though I am uncertain whether or not you would make it back to your quarters in time, or whether you would be forced to relieve yourself in a pail. Ghastly, and completely unbefitting of a maiden of your calibre.”

He can’t have known you had done that once in an emergency. Could he?

“Option two.” He paced again. “I permit you the use of my facilities here in my bathing chambers. Norns above, it’s clear you need it urgently.” He cast a glance at you. Pacing resumed. After a period of silence, you spoke.

“And w-what is option three, Prince Loki.”

He turned towards you, a wicked grin on his face. “Option three is. We have a little fun.”

“Your Highness?”

He sighed. “Please do not call me that. Not here. Not like this. You know my name, do you not?” You nodded. “Then say it. Say my name.”

“Loki.”

He smiled. “Better. Now.” He leaned towards you and spoke softly as his eyes roamed over your figure. “If I am not mistaken, it appears we share the same unique sexual proclivities. Do we not?”

There was really no point in hiding it at this point.

“Yes. Yes… Loki. You are correct.”

He grinned wickedly. “You enjoy the sight of a Prince, a powerful figure ordinarily considered above you in stature, desperately writhing around at a formal event, losing every scrap of composure as he tries to ensure his physical condition goes unnoticed by the nobility in his prescience, before he dashes down the palace hallways, a hand firmly on his groin, before he disgraces himself privately in his chambers. A secret to which only you are privy.”

God, when you say it like that…

“And I…” He bit his lip. He actually bit. His. Lip. “I feel undeniably thrilled at the sight of my favourite chambermaid swaying her shapely hips, touching herself intimacy in front of me, on the verge of wetting her robes, in a futile bid to hold her liquor in front of the crown Prince of Asgard.”

Your mouth hung open, your cheeks flushed. You observed as heat peppered across his nose and cheekbones. Just like it did at dinner when he was in need.

“I would like option three. Please, Loki.”

His tongue poked out to whet his lips as his smiled with pure delight. “Good girl. Now.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I wish to pleasure you. Do you permit me to?”

“Y-yes.”

Was this really happening? Apparently so.

“You will not be able to empty yourself as I pleasure you, as Asgardian anatomy dictates. However immediately after your climax, it’s likely you will spill your liquor involuntarily. At which point, I will clean the both of us with Seidr.” He fingertips sparked green as they tracked down in between your breasts. “But if you do not wish to. I will stop. And I will personally carry you to my bathing chambers. Are you alright with that?”

“Yes. But… Loki?”

“Yes, sweet thing.”

“You do not fornicate with maids.”

He frowned. “And what makes you think that?”

“It’s well known in the palace. We know that Prince Thor chooses a different maid with each week. We also know that in all our years of service, you have never taken one of us. By force, nor by choice. Perhaps that’s why…” You grimaced as a wave of need hit you. “…why you are so desired.”

Sweet girl I’m certain it’s not the only reason.

“Oh. I’m desired, am I?” He grinned. “By whom?”

“By every member of staff in the palace.”

“Well then. Sweet thing. It appears it is time I broke tradition, doesn’t it?” You nodded. “Have you, umm….” He rubbed the side of his index finger along his top lip, a trait he had when nervous or anxious. You had seen him do this many times at feasts when absolutely desperate. “You have liaised with palace nobility prior to now?”

“No. No, Loki. Never.”

He smiled. Oh sweet girl. A naughty little thing, who thinks of me when she is alone but who has not fornicated with anyone else here. What did I do to deserve such a wonderful treat.

“Oh!” You gasped and pressed your thighs together. “W-we need to hurry, p-please…”

“Oh my sweet Runa.”

He picked you up with ease, both hands on your hips, handling you carefully given your current situation. He sat you down on the table and stood in front of you.

“You must be truly desperate.” You nodded, and a whimper escaped your lips. He sighed in sympathy, and placed a kiss on your forehead. Another tear leaked from your eye.

He gently pressed your face into his chest and cradled the back of your head. “Shh my sweet girl. I am here. You are safe. And I will not harm you.”

Another wave of urgency hit you. You started to sob.

She cannot wait. And I cannot do this.

He placed his hands on either side of your face, removing you from his chest, and looked into your eyes. “Runa. I am taking you to the bathing chamber immediately. Yes?” He scooped you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his back as he carried you. This knocked you from your trance, and you started to claw at his shoulders.

“No! Put me back! Put me back on the table, where I was!”

Bossy little thing.

He turned 180 degrees, walked back to the table, and placed you on it.

“I have never heard you so authoritative, little one.”

The colour drained from your face. You, a palace maid, had just given an order to the crown Prince.

“Prince L-Loki please forgive me, I-“

He pressed one finger to his lips. You stopped talking. He whispered to you as he stroked your hair.

“Do you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. You are fit to burst, so I will be brief. I will touch you intimately, and whisper to you as I do so. My words may be soft and tender. They may be provocative. They may even be degrading. If you wish for me to stop at any point, tell me. Are you alright with this?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He grazed his fingertips over your thighs, which were crossed tightly over the other.  He slid his fingertips down to your knee, parting your legs. You inhaled a shaky breath and he whispered to you. “I know. I know.” He stroked your hair. “Do you trust me, Runa?” You hummed in agreement. “Then relax for me, sweet girl.” Hand running over the tops of your robes, he grazed his fingertips down in between your breasts and rested them over the flesh below your belly button. He lightly grazed his fingers back and forth, feeling the tautness of your belly, as you gasped. “You are so full, poor little thing.” He gave you the smallest amount of pressure and as you groaned, you felt the heat of his skin close to you as soft kisses peppered your neck. You moaned for a different reason now.

He positioned himself in between your open legs as you sat on the table. Reaching down and starting at your ankles, he ran his fingertips under your robes, stroking the lower part of your legs and working up to your thighs. He kneaded the soft flesh there. “You sob, sweet girl, but I dare say this arouses you as much as I.” He ghosted his fingertips over your hips and tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Doesn’t it?” You hummed a response and felt his breath at your neck, one hand supporting your lower back and the other now trailing its way over the front of your knickers. He deftly moved his hands lower, and moved your underwear to the side. “How many times, I wonder, have you thought of this? Hmmm? My fingers filling you, instead of your own.” He pressed the flat of his palm lightly into your swollen abdomen, earning another shaky sob from you. You felt one finger slide between your folds as a low, dark chuckle assaulted your ear. “Oh my. Dripping for me I see.” He circled your clit, before delving deeper in between your folds. “In no time my hands will be coated in your arousal, all the way up to my knuckles. How improper.” He kissed your neck again. “My sweet little minx.”

You felt dizzy, in a haze, and felt one finger enter you. “You are positively fit to burst, little one. Aren’t you? Hmmm?”

“Y-yes Loki…” You struggled to croak out a response.

“I wonder how often you have been desperate while working in my chambers.” He moved his digit out of you. “How often you have tried to hide your need in my presence.” His digit moved back in. He added another finger. “It isn’t the first time is it?” You shook your head, and you heard his low chuckle once more. He moved his two fingers in, and out, of you. “Poor little thing. Bursting in front of a prince. Not just any prince. No. The one you think of. The one your thoughts wander to when you’re alone. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you. My fingers entering you, filling you, when you’re pleasuring yourself?”

“Y-yes…”

“And I… I have thought of you…” His thumb circled your clit as his fingers continued to work you. You started to feel heat creep through you. No, not yet… it’s too soon, I can’t…

He felt your body tense and ran his hand up and down your back. “Shhh little one. I know. I know.” He pulled your body even closer to his. “I wonder, sweet thing. If you are quite this drenched when you watch me at those arduous banquets. The thought of you serving me while dripping will stay with me for centuries. Another thought of you for my mind to toy with, as I stroke myself late into the evening.”

His revelation earned a groan from you as he continued his ministrations.

“But this is better, is it not? Having you here, with me. Indulging in this together.” You hummed a yes, feeling light-headed and hot. A pressure built in your abdomen, and you weren’t sure which need was greater in this moment. His fingers worked faster now. “But perhaps you prefer to be a mischievous little voyeur. Watching me. Watching the prince as he squirms in full view of Asgardian nobility. Dashing to his chambers urgently. And pressing your little ears to his door, listening intently as he disgraces himself in private.”

“L-Loki, I-I can’t… I’m going… I’m going to…”

He dropped his performance for a moment and whispered to you. “Relax, Runa. Just let go. Breathe.” You felt as though you melted into him, electricity rushing over you.

“Or perhaps it’s our other secret that thrills you. The sight of me rushing into a maid’s closet, the one you opened for me, knowing I wouldn’t make it, with you standing outside the door as I wet my formal clothes…”

You tilted your head back as your orgasm rushed through you, moaning animalistically as Loki slowed the movements on your center and stroked your back. As your gasps evened out, he removed his fingers from you and pulled his head back from its home buried in your neck. He placed a hand on your face. “You will let go soon. Bathing chambers?”

You looked up dumbly. “No. Here. Please.”

He kissed your forehead, both hands cupping your face. One hand moved down to your abdomen and rested there, the other hand placed on your shoulder. He pushed down firmly on your bladder earning a guttural moan from you. You started to tremble. “Shhh… breathe, sweet thing. Breath in for me. And out.” He guided you through the breath, and on the third exhale, you felt warmth flood your groin as you finally let go. You moaned once more, feeling yourself empty as Loki pulled your body flush with his. He stroked your back and pushed harder on your bladder. “That’s it… that’s it…” His whispers, and the feeling of your release, caused an intense relaxation to flood your system, as you heard the sound of your liquor spilling over the table and onto the floor.

When you finished, you were gasping. You felt your robes cling to your thighs, and felt the closeness of his body against you. He leaned his forehead against yours. “Are you alright, Runa?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

He ran his fingers through your hair and, reluctantly, as though you were connected by a strand of honey, he pulled away from you just slightly. You looked down. You were soaked. He was soaked. His groin and thighs were covered with your liquor. Your cheeks turned crimson and you turned your face to the side.

“No.” His voice was firm. He used one finger along your jawline to guide your face back to him. “Don’t.” You looked up at him and frowned in confusion. “Do not allow guilt or shame to wash over you. I beg of you.” You nodded, but looked down. “I want you to look at me, Runa.” You shook your head. “Look at me. And look at all of you.” Slowly, with flushed cheeks, you raised your head up. His eyes were full of sincerity. “You have never looked more beautiful than you do in this moment.” You smiled drunkenly at him. “Now. I sense your discomfort. Would you like me to use Seidr?” His right hand rested on your wet thigh, and you felt a tingle spark underneath his touch.

“W-would you… would you…”

“Yes…?” His voice was expectant, and patient.

“Would you give me a moment before you clean us?”

He nodded, and took one step back. You looked at him. The prince. Your prince. Absolutely soaked in you. And fully hard from the experience of pleasuring you. You looked down at yourself, and how your wet robes clung to your figure. You looked up again and smiled at his flushed cheeks. You reached up and placed one hand on his face. “I’m ready now.” He nodded, and in an instant, with a flash of green, you were both dry.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Tell me what you need, Runa.”

“What I need?”

“Yes. What do you need?”

You looked off to the side in thought. “I need… I…. Norns! I need to get back to work!”

You scooted off the table and he caught you, pinning your standing form against the table. He placed his hands either side of you, trapping you. “No. That is your duty. Not your need.” He placed a hand on your hip, and dropped his voice to a gentle tone. “I will inform the Head of House you are needed here in my chambers. Now. If you could have anything in this moment, what would it be?”

You smiled at him. “Honestly? A hot bath.”

He smiled back warmly, running a hand down your arm. “I will allow it.” He pulled his hand away and circled the thumb of one hand over the palm of the other, a nervous tick of his. “You, umm… you are permitted to stay in my chambers for the remainder of the day.”

“Yes, Prince Lo-” You stopped yourself, realising your formality.

“It is not an order. It is…” He wrung his hands together. “It is a request.” He walked away from you quickly, leaving you with a sense of emptiness in his absence. You watched as he walked to the end table and uncorked the clear bottle of sweet elixir, pouring it into a goblet. He returned to you and handed the drinking vessel to you. “It will help you to feel restored.”

“B-but you’ve trained. Don’t you need it?”

He shook his head. “I would like you to have it. Would you take it?” You nodded, and he pressed the goblet to your lips as one gentle hand cradled the back of your head. He then held your hand and moved it around the goblet. He stepped back and you took another sip. He scratched the back of his head. “The bathing chambers are… well, you know of their location, I suppose. Please take a bath at your leisure. I’ll… be… umm, there.” He vaguely pointed towards the window seat as he walked over to the bookshelves. You watched as he pulled those same five books from the shelves, the one you had returned earlier, and he sat down with one of them in his lap.

Wonderful, Loki. He said to himself. Well done. You gave her the choice to stay or to leave of her own volition. Which do you think she will choose, Loki? You truly think she will stay if given a choice. She is only here as duty dictates, not because she enjoys your ‘wonderful’ charming company.

You finished your drink, and walked to the end table, pouring the remaining elixir into the goblet. You turned and walked over to him, stopping around six feet from him. He looked up. You offered it to him. An expression of warmth melted into his features. He took the goblet from you, sipped, and placed it beside him. He continued to read.

“Loki?”

Oh sweet girl. Do you wish for my heart to stop?

He looked up. “Yes, Runa?”

“I would like to stay. Please. If that’s okay.”

He placed his book down and swung his legs over to face you. “If you wish. Then… yes. I would… I would like that very much.”

You toyed with your robes. “What about the work? The other maids will have a busy day because of me.”

Sweet thing. You worry unduly.

“I will ensure there is no undue suffering or strain on your staff.”

You cocked your head to the side. “But… how? I mean, it’s not like it can all magically get done…”

Oh.

He smiled knowingly. “I have not used my powers in front of you before, Runa. I am conscious it may frighten you. But…” He stood up. “With your permission, I will complete your tasks for you.”

You nodded. “You may work me out of a job, Prince Loki.”

He laughed. A deep, honest, true laugh. “Sweet thing. That would not do, would it. Without your daily visits to my chambers, I-” He stopped himself, sitting back down at the window seat and rubbing his finger over the space between his nose and his lip.

I simply don’t know what I would do.

You leaned down and gently cradled his face, angling it towards you. “And I would miss it too, my prince.” You pressed your lips to his tenderly, and his mouth opened in invitation to you. His hands grabbed your hips and in a heartbeat you were on his lap straddling him. His lips moved to your neck as you titled your head back. Gasping, you spoke. “Prince Loki, this is… this is not proper.” You smiled at him knowingly.

He grinned wickedly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes roamed over your curves. Before his lips crashed into yours once more, he spoke.

He leaned over to you and whispered directly into your ear. “You already are.” He looked into your eyes and smiled adoringly. In my eyes, at least.

Asgardians were modest, you learned. Dressed in simple robes. Some wore brown leather boots. Others, sandals. The women wore their hair in the half-up half-down style you knew from Frigga. You wondered if it was a trend she started, or simply adhered to. Many of them had gold features in their hair, some type of clip or fastening. Men typically wore their hair short, though some men had shoulder-length hair, like Loki, either tucked behind their ears or the crown of their hair tied back. You noticed one or two Asgardian men with hair cascading down to their waist. They tied it back neatly at the nape of their neck.

Witnessing the simplicity of Asgardian wear made Loki’s status obvious now. Even if you had landed on Asgard yesterday, with no prior knowledge of galactic royal ranks, it would be immediately clear Loki held a position of power. You also noticed how everyday Asgardians didn’t wear any armor. Discreetly, you asked Loki about this. He told you it was for protection. You imagined the royal family members on earth, or high-ranking political figures, who wore bullet-proof vests when they were out in public. It seemed similar, and you explained this to him. You wondered why anyone here would attack him, when his realm seemed so peaceful?

He told you that wasn’t the reason he wore armour. It wasn’t to protect him from a stray bullet or arrow while he was out in public. It was to ensure he was prepared for attacks from outside forces. Loki and Thor had to be ready to defend the realm, and their people, at a moment’s notice.

Here you were, thinking of him as a spoiled prince who wanted to protect himself and stop himself from getting hurt. When in reality he had to be ready to fight and protect Asgard. You noticed the way they looked at him. With an esteem. A respect. And some – with desire. They looked at him, then looked back to you.

“Is it, like, controversial that you’re dating me?” You had asked.

“A little. Yes.”

“Because Midgardians are considered less-than.”

“Well. Mortals and Gods, it’s… some may say it’s not an equal match. But I – ” He continued talking before you could protest or have chance to take offence. “I do not subscribe to that belief system.”

“But you did before.”

“Before what?”

“You mean before who. Before me.”

“Yes.”

“Well. At least you’re honest.”

Loki chuckled, then stifled a yawn.

“Not sleeping well, baby?”

He shook his head, then turned to you and forced a tight smile.

You walked through the town, offered food and drink and gifts at every turn. Some you accepted. Some were politely declined, as Loki placed a hand on his abdomen and bowed in thanks. You gave a nod of your head, copying his customs.

So. Frigga. She knows. About my powers. And yours.

Yes, well. There is little we can do to change it.

Yeah but. You said I would be deported if they found out.

If Odin finds out.

She won’t tell him?

Well, technically she doesn’t know.

“What do you mean?” You kept your volume low.

“Would I be correct in assuming she didn’t actually say anything to you?”

“Yeah. She sent me her thoughts. And communicated that way.”

“She couldn’t hear you. But you could hear her. Correct?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“She performed the same ritual with me as a child. We never spoke of it. Well, she did mention her suspicions recently after I met with father. But no. We’ve never verbally disclosed it to one another.”

“You said open communication isn’t your family’s forte.”

“Yes. Though in this instance, it isn’t the reason.”

You stopped walking for a second to let a group of three boys run past you, one almost running into your side. An adult Asgardian, presumably a parent, apologized sorry to you both. “There is no need to apologize,” Loki assured her, his tone soft and gentle.

He explained to you the woman was likely an aunt, not a mother or father. It was customary, he said, for extended family to take care of children. Especially if their parents held a stall in the busy marketplace.

The boys threw a metal ball up into the air. It separated, revealing a hollow gold ball in the center, surrounding by a collection of swirling silver threads, snaking their way around the gold center. It suspended up in the air. You stood underneath it, gawping at it. The boys covered their mouths to hide their giggles. They were amused by your astonishment at their toy. The aunt apologized again. Loki smiled politely at her, and placed a hand on your lower back to usher you forward.

You continued to talk when you were out of earshot. “Go on. What’s the reason she didn’t say anything out loud.”

“Because if she is ever questioned on it. She can deny it with sincerity. If she is questioned on whether or not she has talked to us about it, she can say no. And it would be truthful.”

So, erm… I guess the best way to confirm someone’s telepathic is to communicate with them without the spoken word. Right?

Exactly.

So she’s keeping it from Odin.

She appears to be, yes.

She erm… she also said she’s afraid. Of my powers. She said she’s afraid for Asgard.

Yes. She mentioned something similar to me.

What happened?

She spoke with me discretely, when I had my meeting with Odin, the day after our banquet. I, erm… I lied. To her. She asked me plainly if you had experienced any changes within the soul forge. I told her you had not. I lied, darling. I lied to my mother.

Shit.

Yes, quite.

And now she knows we’re both bullshitting.

There… there is more. But it’s rather… a lot.

Tell me, Lokes. Please.

I will, love. But not today. Let’s enjoy our day out.

Alright. Deal.

You spent the next couple of hours walking around the market stalls. Loki watched as you looked in wonder and fascination at jewelry, trinkets, snacks and Asgardian silks. He bought a number of items for you, paying in what looked like a gold coin engraved with runes. The market sellers insisted he received the items as a gift, and he protested and attempted to pay. When the sellers were particularly determined to not receive payment, he would discretely leave a coin on the corner of their stall as you both walked away, for the seller to find later.

“Such a rebel,” you quipped.

“They deserve to be compensated for their wares. I will not be handed items simply because I am a Prince.”

You walked around the stalls some more, looking at the items as Loki accepted more drinks and snacks from well-intentioned Asgardians. He held your hand as you walked to another stall.

Love. Can you hear me?

I can.

I, erm. I wish to return to the palace darling. I apologise. I realise you are having a wonderful time. If you wish to stay longer of course, we can. I will wait.

You looked at him, your head tilted.

I need to use the amenities.

You gave him a warm smile. Then let’s go back.

You’re certain?

Yep.

I can hold on, if you wish to stay longer. After all it’s my own doing, I should not have accepted all of those –

It’s okay Lokes. Let’s go back.

You looped your hand in his arm as he walked you both back to the palace, noting how straight he held his torso and how stiffly he walked. His free hand, the one not holding yours, was balled into a fist. The moment you walked up a stone staircase and through a side entrance into the palace, Loki relieved himself in one of the discreet WCs built for passing nobility. The fact that he didn’t even attempt to make it to his chambers told you everything you needed to know. At the same time, you also took the opportunity to use the facilities.

You kissed him on the cheek when he emerged back into the hallway. “Thank you for telling me what you need.”

He blushed at your words and let out a soft sigh. “I do feel much better, I must say.” He tilted his chin up proudly. “How would you feel about lunch, darling? And then a visit to the library. I would like to find some documentation on Seidr and Midgardians.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You were ready for Loki to take your hand and lead the way to the library. Instead, he stood in front of you, looking at the floor as his fingers toyed with yours.

“Would you care to join me in our chambers?” He looked up, his eyes wide. Innocent, almost. “I… I desire to give you pleasure. If you would like. If you do not, I understand…”

“Hey….” Your hand cupped his chin. “I would love to. Would you let me know what I can do to make this safe for you? Can you tell me what you need?”

It would be the first time you had been intimate since Loki’s confession about The Void. The weight of the moment felt thick and heavy, the air filled with density, the same type of feeling just before an electric storm broke.

“I just need you.”

“And my consent.”

“Yes.”

“You have it.” You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. You closed your eyes as you lingered there, a gentle hand resting on the leather armour over his chest. He wrapped his hand around yours and gave it a squeeze. You squeezed back. You whispered into his ear. “You can do whatever you want to me, Loki. I trust you.”

He cradled the back of your head with a firm hand and let out a long sigh. “I love you, darling.”

You held hands as you rushed through the halls of the palace towards your chambers, your feet scuffing clumsily over the stone. Loki’s pace quickened. So did his heartbeat.

You giggled. You’re in a rush.

I cannot begin to tell you how impatient I am to have you. If the circumstances were different, I would be sorely tempted to conjure an invisibility orb and take you right here.

You blew out a breath. I’m okay with it if you are.

Not today my love. Our chambers, somewhere private. If that’s alright.

Yeah, of course. I want you to feel safe.

Loki’s breath became shaky as you rounded the corner and approached the long hallway to the ornate double doors of his chamber. Was the hallway always this long? It had certainly seemed to be never-ending whenever Loki was desperate to make it to privacy, be it after a long banquet with copious amounts of wine, crossed legs and squirming, or whether it was to pleasure the love of his life.

Loki.

Mmmm. He chewed on his lip.

You hard?

Extremely.

Jesus…..

“Would you take leave for an hour? You may take a break for your midday meal.” Loki straightened his back and commanded the guards at his door. They nodded and clinked their way down the hallway and out of view. He opened the door and pulled you inside. A yelp and a giggle escaped you. His mouth devoured yours before you heard the click of the door closing.

His kisses were hot, wet and desperate. His hands claimed the side of your face, then your waist. Then they roamed all over your back. He gasped and whined as he kissed you, walking you towards the wall right next to the door. His hands made contact with the wall first then he gently pressed you into the hard surface. His lips were all over your chest now, smothering you with open-mouthed kisses. One hand rested on the wall next to your shoulder. His fingertips trembled.

“Hey, hey….” With both hands you lifted his head from your chest. “Look at me.”

His bottom lip quivered as he gazed at you with glassy eyes.

“Slow down, baby. Can you slow down for me?”

He nodded. “Y-yes. I’m s-sorry. I’m going too fast for you, I apologise darling.”

“No baby… not for me. For you. Please breathe. There’s no hurry. I’m here.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes for a breath. You lifted his trembling hand from the wall and placed it over your heart. You looked into his eyes and you breathed in slowly, and out slowly. You counted the breaths. In for four, pausing, out for four, pausing. You repeated the cycle until his wide eyes slackened and the furrow in his brow dissolved. The rise and fall of his chest slowed.

“Thank you.”

“It’s okay. I’m here. Take your time, okay?”

He nodded. His gaze moved from your eyes to your lips. He placed two gentle hands either side of your face, cupping your face and kissing you slowly and deeply. You moaned as he bucked his hips into you. He gazed into your eyes and smiled lovingly as he tucked your hair behind you and sucked at the delicate flesh between your neck and your shoulder. A hand snaked down your body and rested on your hips. It ghosted over your abdomen, pausing only to draw a figure of eight on your hipbone. His hand moved down your thigh stopped at your knee, gathering the fabric of your dress and drawing it upwards to your hip. He placed your hand there, and you held the fabric in place as he moved your underwear to the side. One finger swiped from the base of you to the top, brushing over your clit and drawing a gasp from your lips. His eyes searched your face as he continued to pleasure you with his hands, occasionally reaching forward for a kiss.

Your mouth was open, lips flushed, your breath becoming labored. The rise and fall of your chest and the heaving of your cleavage caused his cock to twitch. He bit his lip on the sensation. His mouth trailed more kisses over your chest and then he kneeled in front of you. One hand kept your underwear pulled to one side and the other hand rested over yours, on your hip. Your free hand cupped his head as he pleasured you with his mouth. It wasn’t long until you were grinding your hips into his face. You didn’t mean to. But it was impossible to stay still under his relentless pursuit of your pleasure. Frankly, attempting to stay standing and not allow your knees to buckle was a noble act worthy of a warrior’s medal, or so Loki was thinking as his tongue circled your clit and two fingers pumped in and out of you.

You came with a cry and squirted a spray of release into his mouth. He lapped at you gently as you rode out your climax, fixing your underwear back in place and straightening the hem of your dress. He held you upright with two hands on your waist as you regained your faculties.

“Are you alright?” His tone was a whisper.

You hummed confirmation. You felt drowsy. Drunk, almost.

“Would you like to sit down?”

“Better had, yeah.” You chuckled, flushed with both arousal and embarrassment.

You mutually decided to have lunch brought to you, rather than eat in company, as you recovered from Loki’s intense session of pleasuring. After you had eaten, despite his insistence that it wasn’t necessary, you kneeled in front of him.

“I need your consent, Loki.”

“Really love, it isn’t necessary to pleasure me. I’m not keeping score.”

“I know. But I want to do this for you. And if you don’t want me to do this, please tell me.”

“I… I do. I… I want you.”

“Would you like me to be gentle?”

He nodded. “Please.”

Over the next thirty minutes, you gave him the most unhurried, languid, tender and pleasurable fellatio of his long life. You dabbed his forehead with the back of your hand, and poured him a goblet of sweet elixir after climax number three.

He assured you he didn’t need a nap, he simply swigged the elixir and held your hand as you walked together to the Royal Library.

Palace staff turned their heads and stared as the crown Prince held his lover’s hand in the palace hallway, swinging his arm playfully as he grinned at her and she beamed radiantly.

Even if Loki had noticed their gawps, he wouldn’t have given a care.

It had been six months since you were paired with the God of Mischief. True to form, Tony was the one who made the decision. Strategically, he looked at the Avengers and their support team – the latter being a group with skills just as enviable as the Avengers themselves – and decided who would best work together. He paired them up, choosing partners who had opposite and complimentary skills, often pairing mortals with Gods, and teaming up those with grounded, real-world skills with beings who harnessed supernatural powers. Your background as a master assassin and navy seal escapee, combined with your head for strategy, and skills in entering a building through force without authorisation – your lavish phrase for breaking-and-entering – was essential to any mission. You had a sharp mind, and so did Loki. Loki’s magic and superhuman strength was an asset, and an obvious compliment to your military skillset.

When Loki first moved into the Avengers Tower – ‘moving in’ being a generous term, as Thor’s persistent persuasion bordered on coercion, plus threats of eternal imprisonment from Odin, didn’t leave the God with much choice – you weren’t intimidated by him like the others. You were curious. Your interrogation skills were positively buzzing with the possibility of delving into his mind and pulling out the fragments which caused him to create chaos, examining them for your own fascination and pleasure. You mentally sparred with him for months, your intelligence and wit earning his admiration and respect. But it was his heroics that earned him your loyalty. On one of your first missions, you were inside a building on the brink of collapse. As a concrete beam fell, he shielded you with his body, not taking even a millisecond to think about the consequences on his own form.

You remembered little flashes after that. An arm, trapped under the rubble. Lights flashing by and the view of the hospital ceiling, doctors leaning over you as you were rushed through the hallway. You remembered a white room. Loki’s voice. And Thor’s. Loki advocating for taking you to Asgard to heal you. Thor’s staunch disagreement. “They have their doctors here on Midgard, and they know her form. She is in better hands here, Loki.” The next memory was waking up on a comfortable sofa. You found out later you were in the underground levels of the tower, protecting you from whatever hell was happening above. You had fragments of memory here and there. Someone’s voice. “She will not heal any faster if you watch her from sunrise until nightfall.” Loki’s voice came next. “I will not leave her. Not again.” The sound of sirens outside, and alarms within the tower. Feeling a heaviness in your arm. Groaning. Your head pounding. You opened your eyes. He was kneeling beside you. He all but nursed you back to health over the coming weeks. You told him it wasn’t necessary. With glassy eyes he professed his guilt, explaining how his magic, specifically a foiled escape spell, caused the building to weaken and led to its eventual collapse. He explained he felt responsible for your injury, and therefore your care. He helped you with intimate, rather embarrassing needs as you healed. He treated you with carefulness and with discretion. It was a contrast to the Loki you met when he first called the tower home. Stoic, quiet, aloof, cold and distant. Who only spoke when he could shoot a verbal barb or make a vindictive jest at another’s expense. Today, he wasn’t quite warm towards you. But there was a partially-thawed-out understanding. Perhaps even an affection brewing underneath the surface.

You looked over at him, sat beside you in the blacked-out SUV. Thor and his team partner, Hawkeye, sat in front of you. In front of them, the driver. You figured if you stared at Loki long enough, he would turn to look at you. Instead, he shifted towards the window, suddenly very interested in the rural roads of upstate New York. You placed a hand on his knee. He flinched and let out a gasp. When he turned to you, his eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” Your voice was a whisper. He offered one solemn nod.

As the rural roads became suburban, you continued to observe him. It had been obvious for quite some time. Not only had you received confirmation in his wriggling and his clear shock at your touch, but he offered one final piece of evidence. He lifted up his right leg, resting the side of his calf against the opposite knee. Slowly, he lowered his leg until it was crossed over the other. He then lifted that leg upwards and towards his body, squeezing slightly and grimacing. A balled fist rested on the top of his left thigh. He let out a shaky, shallow breath.

“Loki.” You whispered, your volume lower than before. “Is it your…?” You gestured towards your lower abdomen. He looked over at you, a warning in his gaze. Instead of speaking, you mouthed the words. Bladder?

Three rapid nods. You placed your hand over his balled fist in sympathy. His hand relaxed, fingers uncurling. He placed his right hand over yours, essentially cradling your one hand between both of his. He looked at you intently, willing you to look into his eyes. You caught on, and gave him eye contact. You saw a spark of green.

Can you hear me, mortal?

Y-yes. What is this?

Telepathy. It won’t last long. My powers are… compromised.

You nodded at him. To ensure we’re on the same page, Loki. You need the use of a toilet. Correct?

He nodded.

How bad is it?

He broke eye contact for a moment, swallowing thickly. He looked back at you. It’s rather urgent.

How long do we have?

He shrugged. I could not say. But… I am in dire need.

He lifted his top hand, and with another spark of green, the bond lifted. You offered him a side glance, wondering if part of the bond lingered. You gave him a nod. You trust me. Right? He nodded. You weren’t sure if he heard you, or simply made an assumption.

You stretched and rubbed at your neck, groaning. “Thor? How long until we’re back home?”

Without a word, Thor spoke to the driver, and turned to look at you. “He estimates around an hour. It would be faster of course, if we could all use Mjolnir for transport.” He offered a smug grin, frowning in concern when you didn’t return it. “You are hurt? Your old injury…?”

“No, no… I’m just tired.”

“That is unlike you. However… if you need to rest, we will watch over you. Ensure you come to no harm.”

You smiled in forced gratitude at the sentiment. When the blond warrior faced forwards once more, Loki placed his hand over yours. Green light flashed briefly.

I won’t make it.

You glanced at him, your eyes wide in surprise. You knew it was bad. But it was a clear, obvious, unadulterated emergency.

What should we do, Loki? I want to help you.

I… I… don’t know…

If his sharp mind was so compromised that it failed to conjure words and ideas, his predicament was worse than you thought.

Okay, let me think of options. First option – we ask them to pull over somewhere. How does that sound?

No. There are no public amenities here. Only homes. Soon we will be in the city. It will be too urgent by then.

Okay. So if we can’t leave the car – you have to let go IN the car.

His nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought.

If I can find a container, will you use it?

I suppose I will have to. The only remaining option is unthinkable.

What’s the other option?

I wet my leathers where I sit.

Oh, Loki… You sighed in sympathy. God it’s bad, isn’t it?

He simply nodded, squeezing his thighs tighter together. You noticed his eyes had started to water. You heart panged in empathy. Loki was strong. Frighteningly strong. Even during missions, his expression never once gave away evidence of his pain. To see him so uncomfortable, and clearly mortified, made you want to help him all the more. He wriggled in his seat. The backs of his fingers brushed his lips.

Please. Please do something.

Hearing the p-word from him was a first. You leaped into action.

“Thor, do you have any water left?”

“Yes, a little. Would you like it?” He passed it to you, muttering at how fast the water had run out and musing over why ‘Man of Iron’ didn’t make larger drinking vessels. Looking at the half-litre metal flask containing only a dreg of water, you were wondering the same thing. Would it even be big enough?

Loki’s hand found yours.

It’s not big enough.

Shit. What should I do?

I don’t know.

We need to tell Thor.

No. Please.

We need help, Lo. Please let me tell him. I need his help.

He huffed. Fine.

“Th-thor…?”

“Yes, sweet mortal?” He turned, a smile on his face.

“Do you have another water bottle?”

“Yes I do, however it does not contain any nectar.”

“It’s empty?”

“It is, I apologise.”

“No, that’s… that’s what I need.”

He frowned. “What is the matter, friend?”

You blinked, nodding your head towards Loki. Thor’s expression instantly shifted. You were grateful to notice it was one of sympathy. He seemed to know exactly what was wrong, perhaps because it had happened before. Perhaps because it was obvious. “Brother,” his voice was soft. Quiet. “It will be alright. Our friend will help you. Hold on.”

Loki’s eyes squeezed shut and he pursed his lips. He nodded. A gasp escaped him.

“Thor, I’ve got it under control, but we don’t have much time… would you… would you ask the driver to turn on some music? And you and Clint talk amongst yourselves.”

As Thor did as instructed, you felt Loki’s hand on yours.

I am going to burst.

He removed his hand in a second, unable to keep contact for a moment longer. You watched as he uncrossed his legs, favouring instead to lift his feet up and down, rubbing his thighs against each other. His hand dipped over his crotch, giving it a little squeeze. His face flamed.

“Please do not let me disgrace myself.” His voice was hushed, and littered with ragged gasps.

You started to unscrew the empty bottle from Thor. It was completely jammed. Fuck. You tapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t turn around. “Thor. THOR!”

When he turned to face you, he seemed confused. “You needed privacy, no?”

“Unscrew this!” You thrust the bottle over the seat and into his face. His mouth opened a little, taken aback by your sudden abrupt tone. You simply didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Unscrew it quickly! Loki’s going to wet himself!” You were too engaged in your task to notice Clint’s eyebrows raise, and Loki’s cheeks turn crimson. Thor passed the unscrewed bottle back to you. “This one, too. Empty whatever’s in it. Drink it, pour it out, I don’t care.”

You turned to Loki, bottle in hand. He had one hand firmly pressed into his crotch and he was groaning.

“Okay listen. I want to help you. But I won’t touch you if you don’t want – ”

“JUST HELP ME BEFORE I WET MY LEATHERS!” He then sobbed, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You realised you had to do literally anything to prevent him from emptying his bladder into his clothes. You were certain that moment was imminent. As you reached over and placed your hand on Loki’s waistband, you noticed the streets of New York flash by the window. You were already in the city.

At your demand, Loki held the bottle with one hand as you set to work unfastening his trousers. You were learning now he didn’t have zips or buttons, but laces. You worked as quickly as you could, noticing his grip on his crotch and the whites of his knuckles. It would have been faster to unlace him if he wasn’t wriggling so much, but there was nothing you could do, and he genuinely couldn’t help it. Poor guy was on the brink of pissing himself in front of his colleagues.

You placed your hand on his cock, fishing it out of his trousers, and used your free hand to guide the bottle – which he was still gripping - underneath his member. Loki’s spare hand was now covering his eyes, his head tilted and leaning back into the head rest. One hand on the bottle, one over his face. Okay, guess I’m going to have to do this. As rapidly and respectfully as you could, you placed his cock into the wide open neck of the bottle, as a dribble leaked out and into it. He gasped, fearing he was doing the unthinkable.

“It’s okay, Loki. You’re in the bottle. You can let go now. It’s safe.”

With a groan that sounded eerily like an orgasm, he let go, full force, into the metal flask. He moaned as he emptied himself and you watched, partly enraptured, as his body started to relax. You shook away your thoughts as you heard the liquid approaching the top of the vessel.

“Fuck, Loki… it’s nearly full. Hold on.”

“What? I’m going, I can’t stop…”

You grabbed the next bottle and moved it into position. “Loki, on the count of three, I need you to stop the stream. Two seconds is all I need. Otherwise you’ll urinate on your clothing.” He groaned at the instruction. “One, two, three.”

He clenched his pelvic floor with so much force that he clenched everything in his body. You moved the empty bottle over, placing his cock into it, commanding him. “Pee. Now.” You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. This was so odd. And oddly thrilling.

With one full bottle in your hand, and the empty bottle in another, you needed help. “Loki. Look at me.” He opened his eyes. “Grab this one.” He nodded and grabbed the bottle he was peeing into. You screwed the cap on the one that was full. In less than thirty seconds, the second bottle was nearing its capacity.

“W-we need another!” His voice was strangled.

“There isn’t one, just go on the floor.”

“I can’t!”

“You’ll have to Lo, I’m sorry.”

A sob of humiliation escaped his pursed lips. When the second bottle was full, you took it from him and screwed the cap on, while asking him to clench again. He began to tremble with the force of the exertion. You placed the second bottle down on the car floor and guided him. “Sit on the edge of the seat. Feet apart as much as you can.”

“I – I can’t – can’t hold it any longer.”

“Let go, it’s okay.”

He pointed his member at the floor and allowed the remaining liquor to spill out of his body and onto the expensive car mat. He grimaced at his act. In another minute, his stream reduced down to a trickle, and then finally stopped. It took a moment for him to come round, but he tucked himself into his trousers and laced them back up. He looked down at the wet cat mat at his feet and across at you. His eyes were innocent. “Wh-what do I do?” He lifted up a foot, not wanting to get it wet.

“Here. Scooch over to my side.”

“Scooch?” He raised an eyebrow at your entirely fabricated word.

Humorous Loki was back. Thank God.

He moved over to your side of the car, awkwardly sitting in the middle seat which was comically small compared to his tall form. “Unless I sit on your knee, I do not see how this will work.”

“Fine, Loki.” You grabbed the back of Thor’s seat – taking a moment to appreciatively tap him on the shoulder – and lifted yourself up as much as possible. “Go on… scooch.” He frowned, and moved himself over to sit in your seat. You lowered yourself down, sitting on top of his thighs.

“This is hardly appropriate,” he whispered.

“Well, neither is standing in your own pee.”

His cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry, Loki. Are you alright?”

He nodded.

“Oh. And I kinda need to go, so I’ll try not to pee on you.”

“You… you are also in need? Why did you not – ?”

“Because it was an emergency for you. And it’s okay. It’s not too bad. We’ll be at the tower in twenty, I can wait that long.”

“And I could not.” He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“Loki, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant... you were the priority. And I’m glad I could help you.”

He placed an uncertain hand on your thigh, looking at you sat on his lap and feeling more comfortable than he’d like to admit. “If… if I can assist you in any way, with your needs.”

“I’m okay, Lo. Don’t worry. But thank you.” You shifted a little in his lap. He found himself swallowing down on the sensation, his cock stirring. She placed her hands on me. I wonder if she would do so once more, if the circumstances were not quite so dire.

“So, erm… I’ll pour that out when we get back.” You nodded towards the two full bottles.

“It’s not necessary, little one. Urine is very useful for spells. And hard to come by, as you might imagine.”

“Well jeez, mine won’t be that hard to come by.”

“Truly – if you are in discomfort, I will assist you.”

“No, I’m just joking. I’m not desperate yet. But thank you, Loki.”

You sat like that, in quiet contentment, until you pulled into the underground parking garage of the tower.

“I’ll let you go and use the amenities, little one… but before I do…” He whispered into your ear as the driver manoeuvred into the parking space. Loki looked at you, gently turning your face towards him with a hopeful, expectant finger. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The backs of your fingers traced over his cheek. The pad of one index finger followed the outline of his cheekbones. His face was like art. You had always wanted to run your fingertips over it. “Oh, and Loki?” You grabbed his hand so it was over yours. A green light flashed.

We have to talk about this secret power of yours.

“Charming. Well, I just used them. You want any snacks?”

He turned his nose up and made some comment about ‘those ghastly giant drinks, and Midgardians with their troughs.’ The latter word refered to the large buckets of popcorn.

“Shakespeare was a more civilized affair,” he quipped.

“You can’t compare a legendary 16th century playright to my local Odeon.”

“Odin?”

“No, Odeon. It’s the cinema chain.”

“Oh.”

He stopped whining, and you went into the cinema to find your seats towards the back of the theatre. The screen was black initially. You were always early to a film. He jumped when the cinema intro started, even though you had forewarned him the music might be loud. Then, he was like a kid at Christmas, wide-eyed with wonder.

He kissed your cheek, “This is wonderful darling. Thank you.”

He let out a little laugh - an amused scoff, more like - and grabbed a fistful of popcorn out of your bucket.

“Hey! Only pigs use troughs, remember??” You whispered to him, to which he made an amused little snort to sound like a pig. His eyes went wide at the next couple of adverts. Tear-jerking Christmas ads, of course. He stared at the screen. You stared at him. You were sure you saw his eyes glass over.

“Okay, it’s starting now.”

He looked at you and his mouth opened a little. “That wasn’t the play?”

“The film. No.” You pointed to the screen to show that it was starting. “Here. Want some?” You offered him your drink, and he sipped. He made an orgasmic expression, having never tried sweet cola before. He finished the entire thing.

He became engrossed in the film, quickly being transported to the first world war. He pointed and whispered to you. “It was never like that.” “He wasn’t like that.” “That is quite accurate.”

It was odd to know he’d lived through the events dramatized on screen. It was like having your own personal historian.

He kept leaning forward at particularly dialogue-heavy, engrossing moments. He seemed uncomfortable, crossing his legs every so often. Over time, he kept shifting. It became quite clear what it was.

“Lo,” you whispered in his ear, using your code name lest anyone around you realize who was in the theatre. Midgardians still hadn’t got over the Battle of New York. Which was understandable, really. “Lo, the toilets are outside.”

He hushed you. “Yes yes I am aware. I can hold my liquor.”

You had heard it a million times before. It was true, he DID have a strong constitution compared to any human you had met. But like any being, he had his limits. And he had downed an enormous, caffeinated sugary beverage, the likes of which his system had never experienced, and done so right at the start of a three-hour film. If he held on, it would be a miracle. But then, he always did. He always seemed to make it. And afterwards, he would brush off his desperation as no big deal. And you would never speak of it again.

His elegant leg-crossing turned into wriggling around half-way through the movie. Two hours in, he was squirming. With a half hour left to go, he had one hand jammed into his crotch.

Predictably, the last 30 minutes of the film was vital to the plot and not something either of you wanted to miss. It was also action-heavy, and Loki jumped at each loud explosion. He let out a little whine at one particularly loud sequence, and you wondered if he had leaked a little in surprise.

When the movie ended and the credits rolled, you weren’t about to stick around for any post-credits scene. You could find out online later. What mattered right now was Loki.

You whispered to him before the lights came on. “Toilets are outside. I’ll take you.”

“Hmmmppph, no... Midgard. Might be. Recognized.”

You looked at him, “Lo, you’re bursting.”

“Car. Please. Need to go home. Please.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to see the desperation in his eyes. Thankfully, you were sat on the end of a row. A very full row, which was about to start filing out of the theatre. You placed your hand on his upper arm. “We have to leave, Lo. Stand up for me.”

He took in a long breath and slowly stood, straightening up and trying to act as stoic as humanly - or Asgardianly - possible, his arms straight at his sides and balled into fists. You led him down the steps, around the corner, through the double doors of the cinema and out into the bright lights of the foyer. He was hunched over, his hair covering his face so nobody would see him. It seemed almost impossible for him to walk and yet he did, right out of the cinema’s glass doors and into the parking lot. You ushered him over to your car, pressed the button on your keys and even opened the passenger door for him. While waiting for you to open the door, he had one hand on the roof of your car, the other on the inside of his thigh, his legs crossed. He wasn’t quite grabbing himself in public, but it was close.

As soon as you were both in the car, he grabbed himself with both hands.

“D-darling, I... I... I really need to go.”

“I know Lokes. I’ll get you there as fast as I can.”

You started the car and he hunched over in his seat.

“It’s only ten minutes to my house. Hold on.”

He let out a loud groan. “Ten... ten minutes?”

“Yeah. You can hold on, right?”

He shook his head and bit his lip. “I... I... yes. Yes of course.”

You passed him the empty cola cup from the theatre, which you had brought out with you and had been sat in your lap. “Here. In case of emergency.”

“Relieve myself? In here? Like an animal? OHHHHH...” He groaned as an urgent wave hit him. He started rubbing his thighs together, squeezing down with both hands and wriggling around so much you were shocked you weren’t pulled over by the police. He was turning to the window, one leg turned impossibly upwards, then squirming back to face you.

“Darling... d-darling... I... it’s... it’s an emergency...”

You stopped at a red light, and leaned over to his side to pick the cup up off the floor. “Use it, baby. Please.”

He shook his head. “Can’t. Would rather... UMMMMMMPH... rather... let go in my trousers.”

“Loki, this is Gucci!” You KNEW it was bad. He would never knowingly ruin a fine suit without good reason. The light turned green and you drove on. “Less than five minutes now, Lokes.”

“Mmmmmm, hmmmmmph.” He was biting down on his lip and tears formed in his eyes.

I’m going to let go in my clothes, in front of her. Norns above, hold on Loki...

You pulled into your drive, put the handbreak on and stopped the car so fast you wondered if you should become a formula one driver. You were at the passenger door within seconds. You opened the door to see Loki practically curled up into a ball, his entire body tense. Sweat rolled from his forehead.

You leaned down and unfastened his seatbelt. “Lokes... I want you to go here. You’re in too much pain. Please, just let go. I’ll clean up.”

“C-can’t. Can’t. Made it this far...”

You stood back as he slowly started to stand, not without a lot of whining and groaning.

“I’ll open the door, Lokes...” you called as you rushed towards your front door, hands shaking as you opened your porch door, then the second door into the hallway. You pointed to the bathroom - he had been to your house before, but you felt the need to be super clear at this moment. He hobbled towards it as you rushed past him, closing both front doors and locking them from the inside. Force of habit. And also, you wanted Loki to have full and complete privacy.

What you didn’t know, is he had started leaking on his way to the bathroom. The relief of making it home had overwhelmed him, and his muscles started to relax. You made it back towards the bathroom within seconds, but he was already on the verge of tears, fumbling with his Gucci belt with both hands, then removing a hand to grip himself when a large spurt escaped. He whined in desperation.

“Lokes, here.” You unfastened his belt for him, both of his hands going to his crotch in vain. But it was too late. It started pouring out of him, the loud hissing sound ricocheting off the tiles of your bathroom.

“N-no, no, please no...” Loki gasped as he started to wet himself. He turned his head away from you, and you stepped back a little in a vain attempt to gift him some privacy. He stayed stock still as the contents of his bladder emptied down one pant leg, the expensive material clinging to his thigh and lower leg, and making its way down to his immaculate shoes and pooling onto the bathroom floor. He froze in place, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He didn’t even feel relief at first. He still felt desperate as his bladder emptied, only starting to feel relief as he soaked his clothes further. His pale cheeks were crimson. He continued to look away from you.

It was the longest 60 seconds of your life. You stared at him, not quite believing what you were seeing... or how you were feeling. You had been concerned for Loki, and wanted him to make it... but now that he hadn’t, you couldn’t deny how aroused you felt seeing him in this state.

When he finished, he was gasping. As his breath steadied, his chin and bottom lip started to tremble.

“Loki...” Your voice was above a whisper, and overflowing with compassion.

“Don’t. Please.” His jaw was tense. He still hadn’t looked at you.

Just leave. Leave so I can allow my tears to fall in peace.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Privacy. So I may... clean up.” He felt disgusted with himself at the last words. How had he allowed himself to wet his trousers like a child, with you, his partner, stood right in front of him?

She will never make love to me again.

“I will give you privacy Loki, if you prefer. But... with your permission, I would like to help.”

His face stayed stock still. But his eyes moved towards you. “And why would you do that?” His voice dripped with venom and suspicion.

“Because...” You stepped forward and closed the space between you, gently bringing a hand to his face. He flinched at the contact. “You’re my partner. I love you. And nothing you ever do can change that.”

“Why aren’t you disgusted with me? Or laughing at me?” His voice was curious now. He was genuinely confused. The truth is, it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Around a century ago, he disgraced himself just outside the royal courts, with one of the warriors three viewing the entire spectacle. He was ridiculed about it for decades. Since then, he had held on, no matter what it took from him physically. He would never let that happen again. Until now.

“Loki.” Your gentle voice thawed him. “It’s me. It’s me, Loki. I would never do that to you.” Slowly, so as not to startle him. You placed another hand on his face, gently cupping him. “May I kiss you?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but you leaned forward and kissed his lips. He kissed you back. As you pulled away, he started to sob. He covered his face with his hands.

“D-don’t tell anyone of this, I beg you...”

You pulled him into a hug, not caring that your hips and legs made contact with his wet trousers.

“I would never, Loki. I love you. You’re okay, baby. You’re safe.”

He pulled away enough to look at you. “I do not deserve your compassion.”

“You do, baby. Now... I’m going to get in the shower, and I would love for us to shower together. How does that sound?”

A genuine, yet small, smile creeped onto his face. “Yes. Yes please, darling.”

At his request, you turned away as he peeled off his wet clothes and stepped into the shower with you. You placed a kiss on his cheek. “See Lokes? It’s like it never happened.”

He gripped your face with his large hands and kissed you thoroughly.

His left hand is pressed tightly into his crotch, his right hand covering his face.

He waits. And waits. And waits. Until, he no longer can. He can tell it’s about to happen. And there’s absolutely nothing he can do.

He becomes very still right before. Feet flat on the floor, knees slightly apart, both elbows on the table, head in his hands.

And then it happens. He empties himself at the table. It’s slow at first. Painfully slow. He doesn’t even feel relief. Then the floodgates fully open. The stream thickens and he floods his trousers, humiliation bleeding into every cell of his being, but relief accompanying it like a reassuring friend. He stays stock still.

Worst of all, nobody says a damn thing. Everyone at the table knows what’s happening. And they elect to ignore it. Even when his liquor pools around his feet. And pools around the feet of those next to him. Even with the obvious sounds. They act as if absolutely nothing is transpiring, causing Loki to feel even more isolated and alone.

Loki sits completely still, both hands covering his face which is a deeper red than his brother’s cape.

Even once he’s finished, he doesn’t move. It takes a good minute or two for him to regain his awareness and remember his surroundings. At this point, one hand moves under the table and cleans up the mess with seidr.

The next thing he hears is someone clearing their throat behind him. Then a gentle hand on his shoulder. He hears his mother’s voice:

“Loki. Runa has come to assist. She will take you to your chambers. Where you will remain for the evening.”

Who’s hand was on his shoulder? His mother’s? Or his maid? Was he being banished from the banquet as punishment for his misdeed, or was this an act of sympathy, sparing him the humiliation of facing the nobility he had disgraced himself in front of?

He ruminated over the thought as Runa led him out of the banquet hall and into the empty hallway. She didn’t speak a word to him, and Loki remained silent. His face still shone pink, but his expression of mortification was replaced by a shell-shocked look. He was completely disassociating.

He remained quiet as Runa closed the door to his chambers. She locked it after she asked him if it would be wise. He had nodded. She ran him a bath. He became anxious, asking if it was nearly ready. After gentle questions and encouragement, he offered a small statement.

“I... I... need to go again.”

With a sympathetic look and a warm hand on his lower back, Runa left the room and waited in his main chambers. After some time passed, she correctly deduced Loki had decided to undress and sink into the bathwater after using the toilet. She knocked, and entered only with his permission. She poked her head around the door to ask if he needed anything. He looked up from the bath, covered in comforting warm water up to his shoulders. He shook his head, and thanked her.

She waited on his window seat, reading to pass the time. It was not the first time she was on watch in the Crown Prince’s chambers. It reminded her of a time she cared for him when he came down with an Asgardian winter flu. He had encouraged her to pick any item she wished from his personal library. “If you must suffer with me, at the very least I wish for you to leave at the end of this ghastly ordeal having learned something.” Anyone else would take it as a snide remark. A quip from the silver-tongued trickster. She simply smiled appreciatively before running her fingers over the spines of the books, letting out a little gasp of delight as she spotted one she liked. She had come to know how Loki’s words often hid his true intentions. He could never simply say, “I appreciate and value your help. I would like you to stay. And, I would like you to be comfortable.” That simply wasn’t how he chose to communicate. Having observed his family’s responses to his needs over the centuries, it came as no surprise. Her heart felt heavy at the thought.

And now it was her turn to take care of him again. She felt it was more than her duty as a member of palace staff. She felt it was her moral responsibility.

Fifty pages later, the bathing chamber door cracked open, Loki appearing in the doorway in the comfortable clothes she had laid out for him. He looked away from her, appearing awkward and out-of-place in his own room. She asked if there was anything she could do for him. She wasn’t sure if perhaps he wished to be alone. She would certainly understand if he did.

A small smile played on his lips and a quiet voice emerged. “Unless a tender embrace is within your remit Runa, no. You are dismissed for the evening. I... I thank you for your help. And your discretion. It… it was most kind.” He blushed a little at his final words.

Runa placed down her book and walked up to him, very slowly as not to startle him. She searched his expression as she came within several feet of him, reaching her arms up ever so slowly, nodding to him as if asking for permission. One regal nod from him, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He brought a hand up around her back, a vulnerable head resting tenderly on her shoulder. He stayed there for quite some time.

When he pulled away, she asked if there truly was anything he needed. He told her no, and she could leave if she wished.

“I beg your indulgence, Prince Loki. But let us imagine I did not have any place to be this evening. Would I be of use here?” Her head tilted as she showed yet another gentle smile.

He gave a solemn nod, intertwining his fingers into hers and leading her to his bed. He lay down slowly, inviting her with him. A genuine warmth radiated from her as she lay down beside him.

She held him until they both fell asleep.