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.
A selection of cold and Christmasy tales involving our favourite Frost Giant. Perfect for the festive season, or anytime you feel chilly and need to cozy up with Loki.
Underneath the Tree | Words: 690 *Chose your own ending* Option A - Kink | Option B - Fluff (not written - sorry)
Winter Warmers: A Winters Night on Asgard | Words: 930 (fluffy)
