Summary: You walk into your festively decorated room on Christmas Eve to find the literal God of Mischief bound and gagged and kneeling under your Christmas tree. What's a Midgardian whore to do???
Contains: Trash, crack, breaking the fourth wall. Dub con if you squint. Flirtatious Loki. Plot what plot.
Words: 690
A/N: Inspired by this gorgeous Ask from @kaycrowley. Image credit to @kaycrowley.
A/N: I realise it’s December 28th but fellow Twixmas devotees please join me in our annual festivities. 🎁
***
It was the creaking of leather.
And the muffled moaning.
That alerted you all was not well this Christmas Eve.
You walked to the Christmas Room, your morning coffee in hand, and switched on the light.
Underneath the tree, wrapped in a red bow, was Asgard’s God of Mischief. Hands cuffed. Mouth taped. Leathers stretched taught over the knees on which he kneeled.
His eyes were wide. Brows furrowed. He continued to mumble, words incoherent beneath the silver duct tape. You placed your coffee on the end table with a thud and walked to him, fingers hovering over the corner of the tape.
“You want me to remove this?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Brace yourself.” In one swift tear, your ripped the tape from his mouth.
He gasped. “Thank you.” His shoulders heaved with the exertion of heavy breaths. “I was trying to say, umm….. don’t be alarmed.”
“Well the horse has well and truly bolted on that one, but it was a nice thought.”
“I hardly wanted you to die of fright. I know how sensitive of a disposition you mortals possess.”
“Charming. And a bold move, for a man that’s handcuffed under my tree. How did you get here anyway?”
“The Bifrost. A little prank courtesy of my brother and Heimdall.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I arrived during nightfall.”
“You’re telling me, I was sleeping peacefully in my bed and you were here the whole time.”
“Well in my defense I did try to tell you.” He shrugged a shoulder in the direction of his mouth, hands still cuffed together, arms pinned to his sides by wide red ribbon.
“Are you comfortable.” You frowned in concern.
“Oh believe me mortal, I have spent a considerable amount of time on my knees prior to our encounter.”
“You know what, I believe that. The leather is giving kinky as fuck. Seriously though. Are you comfortable?”
He wriggled. “As comfortable as I can be. I…..” he strained his neck to look down at his arms, “I think you’re supposed to open me.”
“Excuse me.”
“Unwrap me, as it were. I am your gift.”
“I mean honestly I feel like I should be asking more questions but I’m gonna just accept this as a gift from the universe.”
Thankful the scissors were mercifully where you left them after wrapping presents last night, you slid the metal plates in between red ribbon and black leather, snipping your gift loose. The material pooled around him as he rolled his shoulders back, finally free.
“That feels so much better. Thank you.”
“Should I get you out of these?” You gestured towards his bound wrists, stepping forward. He smelled like the outdoors. Frost, mixed with pine. As though he had been outside in a forest during snowfall.
Maybe he had.
He cocked a brow. “Well you don’t have to unbind my wrists. It isn’t mandatory.”
“Lemme guess, you’ve spent a fair bit of time in handcuffs in the past.”
“You know me so well, pet.” He tilted his chin up and pulled his lips up into a self-satisfied grin.
“Where’s the key, anyway?”
He coughed, then opened his mouth wide, an antique gold key lying flat on a wet tongue. You picked the key from his tongue with your index finger and thumb, grimacing with the same disgust as picking up a half-eaten dead vole chewed up by your cat. “Gross.”
“Oh that’s nothing, you should have heard the orifice I suggested to Heimdall.”
“Lovely.” You opened the handcuffs, freeing him. He remained kneeling.
Like a good boy.
“So. What am I meant to do with you, then?”
“Well that’s entirely up to you. I am your gift, after all.”
“The consent in all this is a little dubious, not gonna lie.” You felt as if you were in your very own televised sitcom, half-tempted to look towards the camera to your right and break the fourth wall.
“Not at all. This is also my wish.”
“Huh?”
“Oh yes. I wished to spend 24 hours with a Midgardian. Apparently my brother and Heimdall saw fit to pair me with a particularly enthusiastic one.”
“Oh there’s plenty like me, believe me. I can round them up with one post. Don’t tempt me, I’ll tag ‘em all.”
“I’m rather content with you, as it happens.”
“Alright. So. It’s up to me then?”
“It is, my dear. So tell me,” he pressed a hand to the floor in between his splayed thighs and leaned forward as he whispered, “what do you wish to do with me?”
***
A/N: What would you do? The best comments will be turned into scenarios, and I'll make this a choose your own adventure, e.g.
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Loki has a large collection of interesting equipment, but pride of place goes to the flogger with the criss-crossed green-and-gold shaft and green leather tails.
Loki survives the battle with the Kursed on the Dark World, but the convergence drops him on an inhospitable alien planet, where an unknown woman nurses him back to health.
Genre: hurt/comfort, romance, smut, slow burn, wilderness survival, a lil mystery, a lil bondage, a lil domination. Also lots and lost of Jotun Loki!
As always, I am WILDLY grateful to anyone who reads/votes/comments on Wattpad!!!
Part One of the epilogue is finally up!
Read on Wattpad
Read on AO3
The excerpt below the readmore cut! (Excerpt is SFW, complete prologue NSFW!)
He found them on a side path in the central gardens, not far from the council room entrance.
Eira had gotten there first. She stood back from the commotion, arms crossed, expression martyred, deep green dress shimmering slightly in the sunlight. Her hair was mostly loose today; it hung in rich waves around her hips. The braids at her temples were threaded with green threads.
Even after 300 hundred years, he still felt the flush of fever every time he saw her.
Not that he had much time to enjoy it, at the moment.
Their daughter's nanny was crashing through the bushes that lined the clearing crying, “Princess, please! Call him off, call him off!” Meanwhile, their youngest stood in the center of the clearing with her back to them, watching and giggling uncontrollably.
The grass beneath her olive green skirts was etched with scorched runes. They were still smoking.
“What's she done now?” Loki asked in a low voice as he reached his wife.
Eira slid him an accusatory look. “Your daughter has summoned some kind of creature. And not a very nice one, it seems. He appears to be Hel-bent on molesting poor Borghild.”
“Please, Princess! Make it stop!” the buxom nanny screeched as she scrambled around a tree with a small, greenish figure hot on her tail.
Neither the nanny nor the child seemed to notice their King and Queen standing there.
Zophi’s giggles ratcheted up to outright cackling, the tone of which could only be described as maniacal. The creature caught up with her nanny and proceeded to tangle its small, clawed hands in the poor woman's skirts. The thing--all big slanted eyes and grinning, toothy mouth--looked like some kind of gremlin. Or perhaps a very ugly wood sprite? It was so diminutive, it couldn't possibly be dangerous, though Borghild certainly seemed to believe otherwise.
The two of them--nanny and creature--stumbled into the clearing near the princess and collapsed onto the grass, one trying desperately to keep the other from getting under her petticoats.
The creature made a reedy sound of mirth not totally dissimilar from the princess’ laugh. It's thin, pointed tail lashed left and right as it burrowed into folds of fine blue muslin.
Borghild screamed.
“Shouldn't you do something?” Eira asked mildly. “We'll lose another nanny.”
“I suppose,” he replied. “Though I doubt she's likely to stay on even if I do rescue her. She doesn't seem to have the temperament for it.”
Eira rolled her eyes and Loki bent playfully to kiss her cheek before he strode up behind his daughter.
Zophi’s little shoulders stiffened as he came to a stop behind her. The top of her curly black head didn't even reach his hip.
The high-pitched laughter faded.
Slowly, slowly, her head tilted back, until Loki found himself gazing into wide green eyes, upside-down.
“Hi, Papa.”
“Hello, darling. What are you up to?” he asked conversationally. Nearby, Borghild continued to scream and thrash on the grass. The creature was now entirely lost under her skirts.
“Just playing with Borghild,” she replied.
My daughter, he thought. The picture of innocence.
“Borghild doesn't appear to be enjoying your game, does she?” he asked, glancing at the distressed woman.
Zophi turned around to look up at him right-ways, rosy face pinching into a frown. “She said I was being naughty.”
“I see. So you decided to prove her right?”
The little girl shrugged. “Ulfy said if she was to bully me I should stand up for myself.”
It was at this moment that Borghild saw Loki standing there.
“Your Majesty!!” she screeched, both hands on the thrashing lump in her skirts. “Help me!”
Loki flicked a hand in the nanny's direction. The thrashing immediately stopped and Borghild made a sound of triumph as she kicked the little gremlin out onto the grass.
“We've talked about this before, my dear,” he said to his daughter. “You're to do as your nanny tells you. She’s not bullying.”
Zophi sighed, pale cheeks puffing slightly as she frowned. “She called me a brat, though.”
“My King,” the nanny squeaked, on her feet now, sandy braids in fine disarray.
Loki held up a hand toward the nanny, attention still on his daughter. “You are a brat, darling.”
Zophi dimpled as she fought not to smile. “I am not, Papa.”
“You're rotten to the core, I'm afraid,” he announced, glancing at the nanny with a smiling look of apology. “Were you harmed at all, love?”
The woman flushed prettily. “No, Your Majesty, only a few scratches.” She glanced nervously at the still-frozen creature lying paralyzed in the grass a few feet away.
“Don't worry about him, now. Take yourself off for a rest, my dear. I'll handle this,” he told her. “And you'll be compensated handsomely for your trials today, I promise.” He gave her his most charming smile--Eira had told him once that it could raise a lovelorn lady from the dead--and again, Borghild flushed, ducking her head in acquiescence. When she'd scurried off, Loki turned back to his daughter.
“Mum doesn't like it when you flirt with the servants, Papa,” the little girl said sternly.
Loki squashed a smile and replied, “I wasn't flirting, pet. That was damage control. And you can't go around summoning beasties to torment everyone who crosses you, my sweet. It just isn't practical.”
“It’s only a minor demon, Papa.”
A minor demon?! Loki was careful to keep his face blank. “And where did you learn to summon demons, I wonder?”
Zophi’s face shut down immediately.
“Not going to tell me, hm?” He smiled. “Think you can keep secrets from the God of Mischief?”
Zophi bit her lower lip, the shape of which was identical to Eira's. “I promised not to tell, Papa.”
“Very well,” he replied. “But you get twice the punishment. Yours, plus the punishment that should be visited upon your conspirator.”
Zophi's little shoulders straightened, spine going stiff with determination. Her black curls bounced as she nodded once bravely. “I understand.”
“Good girl. Go apologize to your mother for burning the grass and terrorizing your nanny, and then to your rooms until supper.”
Zophi took a deep breath and turned towards Eira, then marched over to her mother. Loki watched his wife look down on their only daughter with a look of mild annoyance.
“I'm sorry Mummy,” Zophi mumbled.
“Do better, brat,” Loki called.
Zophi shot him a glare and then looked up at Eira again. This time her apology rung loudly across the gardens.
“I'm sorry I summoned a demon and ruined the grass and terrorized Borghild and made you cross!”
There was a pause while Eira considered this rather aggressive announcement. Then she bent a little and smoothed Zophi's mess of curls.
“I'll teach you how to heal the grass,” was all she said.
Friends, whores, others - from a battle-weary Ragnarok Loki receiving a sexy thank you from his Asgardian lover, to teasing Loki with a neck-kissing kink, you'll find a smorgasboard of Loki smut here. Likely has kinky undertones, because I'm a whore.
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Secret Tradition: Loki x Desperate Maid (Omorashi one-shot)
Based on the HCs created with @katofasgard and @musicwakeher. The maid is named Runa meaning ‘Secret Tradition.” <-- named by Kat!
Summary: You’re a palace maid, used to seeing Prince Loki of Asgard absolutely desperate for release at formal events. But this time, you’re working in his chambers and you’re the one who’s contending with a full bladder. As you’re finishing your tasks, he walks in and notices your predicament. Will he go easy on you and let you go, or is this payback for ogling him when he’s in need? (yep, you’re desperate to pee in front of Loki. That’s the plot)
Pairing: Loki x Palace Maid
Words: 5,400
Warning / Contains: Dark!Loki, Soft!Loki, Dom!Loki, some dub-con moments, power play, omorashi, bathroom control, bladder control, pee stuff, strong language, sexual themes (obviously). 18+ only.
Author’s Note: Apparently I’m incapable of writing full Dark!Loki and non-con, so this turned into a fluffy consensual situation. It IS kinky as fuck though, so… enjoy!
You placed the jug of water on the end table, along with a bottle of his favourite imported fortified wine. You added a long slim glass bottle of Elixir, an Asgardian chilled tea sweetened with honey, that the prince enjoyed on his return from training. As well as ensuring everything was just right for him, you were keen to work quickly, complete your tasks on this side of the palace and make your way back to your quarters. As you finished your tasks, you could have sworn you heard footsteps outside, but shrugged it off, given your assumption of a guard pacing back and forth seemed the most likely scenario. He wasn’t due back yet. You straightened up the goblet and bottles just so, and smoothed down your robes as you turned to leave.
You froze as the door swung open. It was him.
Not now. God, please, not now.
His expression remained composed, though a crinkle in his brow and the widening of his eyes told you he hadn’t expected to find you here. You were sure you noticed the slight tug of his lips as he realised it was you.
“My dear.” He removed his black leather riding gloves and placed them on the entry table next to him. He had returned from training, and his cheeks were flushed from the exertion. “I trust you are well?”
You nodded and curtseyed lightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Very well.” You knew better than to ask the crown Prince a question without an invitation, so you smiled politely, bowed your head and walked past him. Your hand rested on the large antique gold door knob when you heard him speak.
“I did not give you permission to leave.” His voice was clipped. Irritated, almost. A tone he seldom used with you.
You turned. “My apologies, Your Highness. How may I be of service?”
I don’t know. I’m sure I will think of something.
He cleared his throat. “The books. They need placing back on the shelf.”
With a nod and a lift of your robes, you scurried to his window seat, collected the five books in your hands and began placing them in their respective homes. As you worked, you felt a presence behind you, and heard his voice richly dripping past your earlobes, though he stood at least six feet away.
“In the correct places.”
You turned and addressed him. “Yes. Of course, Your Highness.”
Once you had placed the books in their slots, you turned back to him.
“Pour me a goblet of wine, would you.”
With a nod, you made your way to the end table, opened the wine and poured the red liquid into the goblet. The sound made you wince. He noticed your slip in composure immediately.
You passed the drink to him. He swirled the liquid in the goblet and toyed with an idea. Oh to Helheim with it. He nodded to the table beside the window. “Sit with me a moment.”
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.
A God Can Hold His Liquor: Part 18 - Just A Girl From Midgard
Summary: Alone in the Royal Palace courtyard, with only Anders to keep watch, Queen Frigga confronts you and questions you about your powers. Over lunch, Loki makes a decision to take care of you… and almost lets a very big secret slip. Later, you and Loki get up to all kinds of scandalous shenanigans in the gardens.
“Queen Frigga!” You stood up, bowing regally as Loki’s mother approached you. You had been sat in the private courtyard, in the shade of a cluster of lemon trees, for quite some time. The courtyard, with its perfectly pruned shrubs and inexplicably immaculate stonework, sat empty. You couldn’t quite believe you were allowed to have it all to yourself.
It’s not like I’m anyone.
Imposter syndrome, probably.
Another one for my therapist.
“While I am flattered, there is no need to bow to me.” She smiled warmly as she walked closer to you, her back straight and her hands clasped regally in front of her long blue robe.
She has a warm energy, but I wouldn’t want to cross her. There’s a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe. Shit. I shouldn’t even be thinking this. What if she can hear my thoughts? She’s like a sorcerer, right??
“And there is no need to be nervous, my dear. You are welcome here, in our home.” She gestured towards the stone seating next to you. “May I?” She sat when you nodded.
“Thank you, Frigga. I appreciate that. I guess it just… takes a bit of getting used to, you know?”
She tilted her head curiously.
“I mean… for one, it’s absolutely gorgeous here. Stunning. And that’s a lot to take in. And then… I’m surrounded by…” You gestured towards her, as respectfully as you could. “…immortal beings. Gods. And I’m dating one. I mean, I’m in union with one. With Loki. And he’s a very powerful being. And I’m not anyone, you know? Just a girl from Midgard.”
“Just a girl from Midgard,” Frigga echoed quietly. She arched an eyebrow.
She doesn’t believe me. Why not?
Frigga tilted her head at you once more. “I believe you are a little more than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
She looked at you wordlessly.
You’re reading my thoughts aren’t you. I know you are.
You smiled at her as she continued to cast her gaze upon you.
Or are you not telepathic like Loki? Shit. You probably don’t know he can read minds too. Or do you know? Frigga, I want to tell you, I do. I just… I can’t.
You stopped, and breathed. You continued to smile. And you focused. And listened.
You have powers, my child. I know that you do. I sense it. I do not know what they are. But I sense you are using them now. Telepathy would be my assumption. I do not know if my son shares these gifts, though I have always suspected he does.
Can you hear me? Can you hear me, Frigga?
She placed a hand on your knee. “Are you hungry, my dear? It is almost midday.”
“Oh! Actually, yeah. I could eat.”
“Would you like to join us for lunch?”
“Oh, I… erm… I don’t… I don’t know.”
“There is no pressure, of course. If you do not wish to have a formal lunch with your lover’s parents, I understand.” She smiled knowingly.
“Well, thank you… I…”
“What is your preference?”
“Erm… just grabbing a casual bite to eat would be nice. Nothing too fancy.”
She nodded. “Very well. Let us sit a moment, then I will guide you.”
But that’s Anders’ job isn’t it? To guide me to the lunch place. I feel like she’s here for another reason. Shit. I still don’t know if she can hear me.
You looked forward, your eyes focused on the lavender. Frigga followed your gaze.
“I sense that you have powers, my child.”
“O-oh?” You glanced over at her.
“Yes. I believe the soul forge had an impact on you.”
You remained quiet. You couldn’t lie to her.
“I will not ask you directly. I understand you would not tell me. Perhaps for your own safety. I must confess, it concerns me greatly.”
You looked over at her again. “What do you mean?”
“I am concerned. For my realm.”
“Frigga, I would never… never do anything to harm anyone here.” You stopped yourself. “Even if I could. Hypothetically.”
With a tilt of her head and a glint in her eye, she looked at you. All you saw was Loki. They were so alike. “Hypothetically?”
“Umm… yeah.”
Frigga maintained her quiet and firm gaze upon you. You looked at the ground. You decided to think of the most scandalous thing you could muster.
You can’t hear me, can you Frigga. I’m pretty sure you can’t. But I need to be one hundred percent sure.
You looked at her.
Okay, here goes nothing. Only one way to find out… Your son is shit hot in bed. Massive dick. Insanely gifted with his tongue. Kinky as fuck. Likes to humiliate himself on purpose. Into all kinds of shit. Probably has a maid kink. But he’s never fucked a maid.
Her expression didn’t waver. She simply tilted her head curiously at your silence. “I cannot read your thoughts, if that is what you are wondering. Though I sense you are attempting to establish this for yourself. Rest assured, I cannot.”
“Oh. Erm… okay.” Thank fuck for that. “I… can I… can I ask you about… about your powers?” She nodded, and you continued. “Loki mentioned you are empathic. You can sense things.”
“Correct. Extra sensory perception. Loki has this gift, too. Though I have always known he has greater gifts than he confesses. Even to me.”
You nodded. “Mmm hmm.”
She sat down next to you. Her gaze remained fixed ahead.
“I am a sorceress. Or a witch, as some may say. I can cast illusions, and manipulate matter… telekinesis, if given its Sunday name. I do not have precognition – predicting potential outcomes of the future. I have always suspected my son possesses that power. I shared my magic with him, when he was a boy. His father and brother cast large shadows. I wanted Loki to find some sun for himself. I did not realise how his use of Seidr, particularly in battle, would be considered feminine. He would run to me…” She trailed off, casting her eyes to the ground briefly before returning her gaze to the lavender. “It would upset him, when he was very young. It does not, now. He knows his power and he has used it to intimate and frighten many in this realm. Though he does not know the true extent of his capabilities. Though I am proud of my son, I also recognise he is operating far below what he is capable of.”
“You mean he has powers that he hasn’t used yet?”
“Yes. He is often careless with his powers. He uses his powers for tricks and games. When he could use his gifts to save the realm, if it came to it.”
Is that why you taught him magic? To be Asgard’s saviour one day?
“Enough of my talk. You must be hungry.” With a warm hand on your shoulder, Frigga guided you to stand. She turned to Anders. “I will look after her. Take a break, dear Anders.”
He bowed. You heard the clinking of gold armour as he walked away.
“Come, child. Let us eat.”
I will show you where to fix yourself some food. I suspect you can hear me, even now.
You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. She looked at you, smiling.
After a short walk, you found yourself in a large open dining room. Predictably high ceilings. Dark brown, and gold. A guard entered, and spoke to the queen quietly. She came back to you, and explained the Allfather was running late in a security council meeting. She asked if you would like to dine with her, even though it was a little more formal than you had agreed. You decided to stay.
As the palace staff rushed in to fill the large, empty table in front of you, you noticed they were more harried than usual. You noticed Astrid, and smiled warmly. Her smile was forced and tight.
Frigga sat opposite you, and spoke quietly. “There is a palace function today. They are a little stretched thin.”
“Ohh.” You smiled. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Loki, does it?”
The queen parted her lips and took in a breath. “I couldn’t possibly say.”
You smiled. “Would you tell me more about Loki? About what he was like when he was younger.”
You reached over to a basket of fresh baked bread, sliced thickly, after Frigga gestured towards it and invited you to start. You dipped the bread into a saucer of oil, infused with a flavour that seemed familiar yet you couldn’t quite identify it.
“Loki as a boy. Well.” She arched a perfectly manicured brow as she too dipped bread into her own saucer of oil. You couldn’t help but notice how she had exactly the same amount of food as you, the same saucer, the same bread basket, the same plate. Shouldn’t she have more? She’s the queen. She took a bite. “Mmm. So… Loki was bright. Always bright. Curious. Playful. A little… shy, I suppose. Incredibly studious. Very fond of the library. Have you been to the palace library yet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Oh, you will adore it. Loki tells me you love to read.”
“I do.” Your smile became wide.
“You will spend many an evening in the library, I’m sure of it. Particularly in the autumn and winter months. If ever you cannot find Loki, he is sure to be there. The only challenge you will have is locating him. He is a broad reader, you see. He has rich and varied tastes. He reads everything. Literature – from Asgard and other realms. Midgardian history. Philosophy, psychology, anatomy and physiology. Legends and myths… oh, and he loves to read about Seidr. He was… he was not wild in his adolescence. He was rather reserved. I always found him in the library. It was a place he would never bump into Thor, so if they had quarreled, it was a safe place for him. I often thought of how he relished his intellectual prowess. He has more than a slight edge over his brother in that regard.”
“He is very intelligent. I love that about him.”
“Yes. And… sensitive. He was a sensitive boy. I suspect he still is.”
You blushed, and echoed her words from earlier. “I couldn’t possibly say.”
“I would be grateful if you did not scare her off, mother.”
You both turned to see Loki leaning against the doorway, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He glanced behind him when a maid bumped into him from behind, carrying a large jug of mead. He walked down the steps and into the room, walking slowly, almost flirtatiously.
“She is intrigued by you, your mortal.” Frigga smiled as she looked to her son, and then over to you.
“Yes, well, curiosity killed the cat, as they say.”
Frigga frowned.
“Oh, it’s a saying on Midgard,” you offered. “Must be all that reading, baby.” You looked over to him and smiled.
In steady, swift steps, Loki was behind you, protective hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and nuzzled his nose into your hair. “And how were the gardens, my love?”
You reached back and placed one hand over his, turning to see him. “Gorgeous. As always.”
His smile was affectionate as he traced the backs of his fingers over your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.
“You are dining with us, Loki?”
He looked up towards his mother. “Not today, no.” With a smirk, he leaned over you, grabbed a piece of bread, then walked towards his mother. Before he could lean down, she placed her hand over the oil and it vanished. She grinned at him playfully. He huffed. “Very well.” In a flash of green, your dipping oil disappeared and then reappeared in his hand.
“Hey! Conjure your own oil, Lokes!”
He laughed, dipped in the bread, then returned it to you.
“You know I feel kind of left out, with you two. I want powers!”
Careful, darling…
“I apologise if I made you feel left out,” Frigga said with a sympathetic smile. She leaned over the table and placed her hand over yours. “I am sorry.” As Frigga was looking at you, Loki’s eyes were on the table.
“Where’s your flask?”
“Huh?” You looked up at Loki. Frigga returned to a seated position.
“Your flask. I asked Anders to provide you with one. Where is he, anyway?”
“I dismissed him. I told him I will look after her,” Frigga explained.
“Mother, that will not do.”
“He needed a rest, Loki. It is hot out there.”
“Which is precisely WHY I asked him to provide her with water!” His tone was terse. He wasn’t quite shouting. But it was enough to turn the heads of the palace staff.
Frigga raised an eyebrow and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. She stood, and walked towards her son. She spoke softly. “What do you need, Loki?”
“I… I…” He appeared to melt in front of her. “I need water. For her. Cold water. In a flask.”
She nodded and looked towards a maid. Without a word, the maid left the room. Frigga looked at her son, noticing his chest and his shoulders rising and falling. His eyebrows were knitted together. His skin looked pale and clammy. She raised her hand and placed the back of it over his forehead. He felt cold. “Sit, my son. Please.” He exhaled a shaky breath, then turned to sit next to you. You looked over at him, frowning. Under the table, a reassuring hand found his thigh.
“You’re okay, baby?” you whispered. He looked at the table and nodded, before glancing over to you and forcing a smile. In a heartbeat, a maid placed down a jug of water and a flask on the table in front of you. The pewter jug glistened, cool beads of liquid forming on its exterior. Loki immediately noticed the sound. He heard no clinking of ice cubes in the metal container.
“What is this?” The terse tone returned.
“W-water, Prince Loki. And a flask. As the Queen requested.” The maid toyed with her robe, her head bowed.
“Where is the ice?”
“W-we are in need of ice, Your Highness. The imports from Jotunheim have been… disrupted… since the realm was destroyed.”
“Are we not forming our own?”
“W-with respect, Your Highness, it poses a challenge in the summer months. Rest assured, this water is piped from the mountain spring. It is cold.”
He waved his hand dismissively. She gave one nod and left the room.
“That was rude, baby. They’re trying their best…”
He barely heard you as he picked up the jug of water and muttered, “I’ll do it myself.” With a loud sigh he walked up the steps and out into the hallway.
He set up the jug on a side table, demanding the maid bring him a second jug. This one was to be empty. While he waited, he looked over his shoulder. The hallway was bustling with staff, but no nobility. He had heard of the late-running council meeting, which thankfully held the majority of the realm’s noblemen. An empty jug was handed to him moments later, and he turned even further away from the ant line of palace staff, moving towards the table until his hips made contact with it.
He glanced over his shoulder, in both directions, and lifted up the first jug and began pouring it into the second. As the water poured into the jug, he waved his hand over it, cooling it. He winced as the clatter of ice chunks fell into metal, louder than he anticipated. He continued his movements, pouring the entire jug of water into the second jug, which was now full to the brim with ice. He placed down both vessels. He exhaled slowly. He turned over both of his hands in front of him. They were as blue as the Asgardian summer sky. He exhaled again and closed his eyes.
“Norns above, I beg of you…” He whispered to himself. He rubbed a hand over his forehead. He shuddered as he felt the ridges above his eyes.
After ten slow, deep breaths, he conjured a mirror and looked at his reflection. His pale skin stared back at him. His Asgardian blue eyes. Pink lips.
Normal. I look normal.
With one more breath, he turned. He flashed his trademark smile. “Astrid. Would you be so kind as to take this jug of ice to our table?” He gestured to it, without touching it. “And fill this one with fresh spring water. Thank you so much.”
He turned on his heels and returned to the formal lunch room, his arms and smile wide. Astrid followed soon after, placing down the two jugs. Loki sat next to you. Frigga caught Loki’s eye and rubbed at her neck. He frowned, then understood. As he leaned over to you, he rested his left hand over his neck and casually rubbed at it. He felt the heat underneath his own touch.
“Baby, did you…did you conjure some ice for me?? Aww!”
He laughed nervously and gestured to the jugs. “I-I did, yes…” He looked up at his mother and lifted his hand from his neck, casually toying with the roots of his hair with his fingertips. She gave one subtle nod. He rubbed at his neck twice more to be sure the small patch of blue had faded, before placing his hand down on the table. “You really must drink up my darling. The sun’s hot out there.”
“Thanks, Lokes.”
“It’s quite alright. But you must be careful. I heard of a ghastly story in your news media last year. A young couple, perfectly healthy, went out for a hike with their Midgardian baby. They started in the morning. And by the afternoon… well.” He tugged at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger. “The investigation found they succumbed to the heat of the Midgardian sun. And they were found with an empty drinking vessel. They were out only for the morning, and several hours in the afternoon.”
Baby… you’re worried I’ll get hurt without enough water…
He looked up at you. His eyes were glassy.
He reached up and stroked your cheek with his thumb, a sad smile playing on his lips.
He will be devastated when she passes.
You both stopped. Your eyes met.
I can hear Frigga, Loki.
I know darling. So can I.
And she knows.
I know.
“Baby, erm… thank you for taking care of me. But… would you do one more thing for me, please?”
“Anything.”
“Would you, erm… maybe apologise to that lady? I know you were upset, but you were rude to her. Maybe say you’re sorry?”
You didn’t notice the smile playing on Frigga’s lips as she adjusted the napkin on her lap.
“I… darling, I…” A gentle hand stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “I would do anything for you. But I… I cannot apologise to palace staff. It is simply… not done.”
You nodded, chewing at your lip. “I know I don’t understand how things are done here. I just… that’s what I would ask you on Midgard. So I’m asking that here.”
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Yes, love. I will apologise to her. For my tone.”
You grinned, suddenly playful and wanting to lighten the mood.
“So, erm… you gonna eat with us? Or just hover around and steal some more bread, like a Midgardian street urchin?”
His fifth gear laugh echoed around the room.
He stayed for the main course of light, citrusy grains and pulses with fresh chopped mint and cucumbers, arranged on a bed of dark leafy greens in an impossibly elegant fashion. The large metal platter shimmered in the light of the dining area.
Even when it’s just a salad, it’s still extra…
I thought you would know by now, darling. Everything’s bigger on Asgard.
***
Several hours, many flasks of iced spring water and two bathroom breaks later, you were back in the courtyard, sitting in the shade of the lemon trees. Over lunch, you had finished up dessert with Frigga and found yourself talking about food from earth. She asked you a great deal of questions, and appeared interested in your customs. Loki had left you after the lunch course, but you had felt oddly comfortable in the company of his mother, as you mused over the cacao chia pudding the two of you shared. It was topped with redberries which, it turned out, were basically Asgard’s answer to blueberries, albeit in a different colour.
As you recounted lunch, you tilted your face up to the sky, closing your eyes and breathing in the aroma of the Asgardian garden. Lavender. Citrus. And the scent of summer on your skin.
“How did a lowly Midgardian work her way into the Royal Courtyard of our realm?”
You smiled. Your eyes remained closed, but you knew exactly who was striding towards you with something akin to a regal-rockstar swagger. You opened your eyes to him, remaining in your position leaning back on the stone wall seating, your palms flat against the stone. “Well, I know some people who know some people.”
“Ahh.” He arched a brow as he reached your side. “It’s who you know. I see.”
You gave him the sweetest of smiles. It’s easy, really. You just have to know who’s cock to suck.
He began to cough to cover his laugh. You reached your arm forward, a flask of water in your hand. “Need this?”
He nodded and sipped the cool water as you grinned smugly at him. When he finished, he looked across at your guard, stood a respectable-yet-protective distance from you. “Anders, you are dismissed for the day. I…” His eyes glanced to the side, looking at you with a wry smile and knowing your love of treating staff well. He returned his gaze to the guard. “I thank you for your service today, Anders.”
Anders composure almost slipped at Loki’s generous admission of gratitude, yet he bowed and walked away, armour clinking and shining under the Asgardian sun.
Loki waited a beat before he spoke.
“It’s a scandal if you ask me.” His voice was deep. Rich. Seductive. He leaned down, placing his hands either side of yours. He teased a ribbon of your hair between his index and middle finger. He dropped his voice to a whisker above a whisper. “A Midgardian wench, sat in the favoured seat of the Crown Prince of Asgard.” The backs of his fingers traced down your cheek. “What shall we do with her?” He stood up tall and looked down at you. He tilted his chin upwards at you arrogantly.
“Flogging. Definitely flogging. Publicly, preferably,” you quipped, eliciting a laugh from him. You watched as creases formed at the corners of his eyes, his wide smile appearing to light up his face.
“You do make me laugh, sweet thing.”
“Well, you know… maybe I’m not so sweet.” You arched your eyebrows.
He felt his mouth go dry. “No… no I expect you’re not.” He glanced over his shoulder. “W-would you mind terribly if I joined you?”
“To be fair Loki, I think that ships already sailed, but yeah sure.”
He grinned, and with the speed and dexterity of a wild cat, he reached down to place his hands on your hips. His eyes caught yours. They were positively brimming with mischief. In one swift motion, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, causing you to yelp, before he patted your bottom with the flat of his palm. He turned around, sat, and pulled you off his shoulder and down onto his lap.
“Fuck….” Your voice was a breathy whisper.
A strong arm around your midriff pulled you in, your back now flush with his chest. You felt him already stir underneath you. “You know…” He whispered into your ear once more. “There truly is nobody around this time of day.”
“Loki…”
“Let me get this straight, sweetling. You do not wish to fornicate, in this beautiful royal garden, in the shade of the lemon trees, under the Asgardian summer sun, with me?”
“No, I do… I just… I mean, we’re in public.”
“It’s a private space. But if you are not comfortable, I will not push the issue.”
“I know it’s private but… who exactly has access to it?”
“The Royal Family of Asgard.”
“So what you’re saying is, nobody will walk past and catch us fucking, but if they do, it’ll be your Mum, your Dad or your brother?”
He chuckled. “When you put it like that…”
You shifted on his lap. He swallowed thickly. You paused for a heartbeat. “Okay… so… are you sure nobody’s around?”
“I’m positive, love. Father’s in his next round of council meetings. Mother’s taking her midday nap. And Thor is drinking mead with Sif in the tavern.”
“Hmmm it’s almost like you planned this.” You turned to him, cocking your head. He gently cupped your jawline and guided your face towards his, kissing your lips tenderly. You didn’t see the movement of his hand, which was still firmly around your stomach. He lifted his fingers, and a flash of green conjured a white, swirling energy field. It wrapped around both of you in a sphere. In another green shimmer, the energy field became completely translucent.
“Darling, I…” His fingertips ghosted over your stomach. “I don’t suppose you are full, are you?”
You knew exactly what he was suggesting.
“Nope, sorry Lokes. On the plus side I know the location of every bathroom in a 10-minute fast walk from here, so that might come in handy in future.” He let out a chuckle. “Wait… is that why you plied me with water? To get me desperate?”
“No darling. It was pure care.”
“Yeah yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes. You believed him. Thousands, of course, wouldn’t. “Okay, so… how are we doing this?”
“I wish to give you pleasure. But how we do this is entirely at your behest. Tell me what you need, and what is beyond your limits.”
“Alright, erm… I’m happy for you to touch me. But I don’t want to be naked in public. Well I mean, not public… but here, in the gardens. I want to stay fully clothed and covered up. I don’t want to be exposed in any way.”
“As you wish,” he whispered, tugging up the back of your dress, the green material pooling in his lap. He snaked a hand underneath the garment. You felt a cool hand rest on your right thigh. You became aware of the sensation of leather pressing against your bare legs. “How is this, love? Are you alright?”
“Y-yes.”
“And… I do not mean immediately, but… how would you feel if I entered you?”
You let out a deep, satisfied sigh at his blazé tone. The answer was always yes. But you did have to state your terms. “I… can you… can you do it without anyone noticing?”
“Yes. It will appear you are simply sat on my lap.”
“Okay…. I’m okay with it…”
“Our words of safety. Goblet. Lightning. Yes?”
“Yes…”
He stroked the side of your hair, snaking his fingertips down to your neck. The pads of his fingers ghosted over the delicate flesh, causing you to tingle. He placed his lips there, a hot, open-mouthed kiss than turned feverish, as the hand on your thigh turning inwards, kneading and grasping at the soft skin of your inner thigh. His touches soon turned gentle, running his fingertips up and down the inside of your leg, then returning to his pace of roughly grabbing you. The sensation was making you dizzy and, combined with the feeling of his hot mouth on your neck, it was almost too much.
By some divine blessing from the Gods, he didn’t wait any longer and slipped a deft index finger over your folds. “So wet….” He gasped between kisses. “You’re so wet for me…” You let out a breathy moan. He reached your clit, circling the sensitive bud with alternating motions. North to south. Figure-of-eight. And another movement, akin to attempting to keep a marble underwater with his the pad of his middle finger. His free hand hovered on your stomach, fingers spread, pulling you into him. His lips ceased his attack on your neck, and instead he tilted his head against yours, as your head rested on his shoulder. Without warning, he stopped.
“Stay perfectly still, darling.”
You opened your eyes to see a figure up on a balcony, one strong arm outstretched onto the stone railing in front of him. The man reached beneath him, the other hand grasping a large goblet of mead. He swigged at it.
Thor.
Shit.
“It’s alright.” Loki looked straight ahead. He was completely still. So were you. His fingertips remained at your center. He felt you moisten further. He struggled not to chuckle.
“If that’s an illusion up there…” Your hushed voice was curt.
“It isn’t. I promise you.”
In a moment, Thor returned back inside. You sighed and leaned back into Loki.
“Are you alright, little one?”
“Y-yeah. Just a bit scared, that’s all.”
He whispered so close to your face. “And aroused.”
“Y-yes…”
His fingers continued their movements on your center, mercifully slipping one dexterous digit inside of you. Then, he added another finger. “Naughty little thing.” He continued his ministrations. “Aroused at the thought of getting caught, aren’t you?” You hummed your agreement, feeling the hardness of him underneath you.
“I want you… I want you inside me….” You gasped, breathless.
He lifted you up for a beat and with a little fumbling, his hands shaking slightly, he released himself from his leather slacks. He asked you to sit back down, one hand repositioning your dress around his lap, the other on his member, guiding him into you. You both moaned at the feeling.
I won’t be able to make love to you here, darling.
“What do you mean, Lokes?” You whispered.
I can’t… I can’t thrust at all. It will make it too obvious.
“P-please Loki…”
“I can’t, darling. But I will remain inside of you as I pleasure you.”
You moaned, a sob choking into the sound.
“Shhh… I know… I know…”
He continued to pleasure you with his hands, the feeling of him inside of you suddenly overwhelming you, and the frustration of not feeling him moving in and out of you almost being too much to bear. You felt heat radiate from the tips of your toes to the features on your face, and your breathing became more rapid.
“Loki… I’m going… I’m going to….”
“I know, love. It’s alright. Let go. You’re safe here.”
With large, ragged gasps, you climaxed, your voice suddenly silent and coming instead with a hard shudder. Holding back your moans made your orgasm feel even more intense. As you came back down from your high, he held you.
“Are you alright?”
“Y-yes. Thank you, baby. For… for keeping me safe.”
His cock twitched inside of you.
“But you… you haven’t been able to come…”
“Don’t worry about me, sweet thing.”
You leaned into him. Your eyes flickered open. You noticed a flash of green, and with it a white vortex around you turned into a white orb in Loki’s palm. In one more green flourish, the orb disappeared.
“What the hell was that?”
“A concealment spell.”
“W-what?”
“So we wouldn’t be seen or heard.”
“W-what do you mean?” Your head felt as though it was spinning.
“I cast it as we started to kiss. It concealed us.”
“S-so we’ve been concealed the whole time.”
He smirked. “Yes.”
You sat up, the sensation of no longer being inside you causing him to groan. You swung around so you straddled him, facing him. “So when we saw Thor… he was an illusion then?”
“No. He was really there. But he couldn’t see or hear us.”
“B-but, you said… and you told me to stay still…”
He smirked. Then, he winced. He readied himself for a tirade, for you to become enraged with him at his tricks, just as he had experienced during his long life on Asgard. Instead, you spoke softly.
“You protected me. You didn’t want anyone to see me… but you wanted me to feel like it was edgy and dangerous. But the whole time, I was safe.”
He swallowed hard. He looked down, and tucked himself back into his trousers. “I-I apologise love, I really should have been more forthright – ”
“Baby…” You kissed him deeply, holding his face in bold of your hands. “So sweet…” You continued to kiss him. “Such a good man.” He groaned into your mouth. “Always protecting me.” He positively moaned, his hands roaming over your back. He stopped when he heard someone clearing their throat.
“I apologise profusely, your majesty.”
Loki looked up. Anders.
You chose to bury your face into Loki’s leather-clad chest. He rested one hand on the back of your head, holding you into him.
“Your majesty, your presence is… requested.”
He gave one solemn nod. “I will be there. Thank you, Anders.”
As the clinking of metal faded into the distance, you looked up. “Fucking hell. Good job on the spell…. We needed it.”
He smiled, and lifted you from his lap.
“Darling, I… I am sorry to do this. But I must go.”
You smirked at him. “You know I never had you down as the fuck-me-and-leave type.”
He looked you up and down, smiling thoughtfully. “Alright.” He held you hand. “Alright… come with me.”
He walked you to the edge of the gardens, where Anders was waiting with a maid who looked familiar to you.
“Darling, this is Runa. She will take you to your chambers to ready yourself for this evening. We have several hours, you may wish to sleep, or to bathe. You are…” He looked at his maid, and then back to you. “You are in excellent care. Runa is incredibly skilled, and she is one of the very best of our palace staff.”
He maid’s bowed head suddenly shot up, her blue eyes wide.
Okay Loki, you’re milking it now.
He smirked. “I must go with Anders now. You are in good hands, I promise you.” His movements stuttered for a second, then he moved in to kiss you. You didn’t see how Anders and Runa looked to the ground. When Loki broke the kiss, he lifted your right hand in his and kissed your knuckles. “Until this evening, darling.” He looked directly into your eyes. I am counting the seconds. “Runa, please escort my love to her chambers.”
With a gentle hand on your lower back, he urged you to walk towards his maid. She smiled warmly, giving a nod and asking you to follow her, as she handed you a full flask of cool spring water. As you walked away you communicated with him.
