Trash
The next day you made your way to the wash room. The Grandmaster had crafted a huge salon within the palace. You gave him daily hair washes and blowouts. Thank goodness your hairstyling techniques came in handy here; those skills literally saved your life.
You walk into the room and see Loki sitting there, drinking something. “Ah, my mortal hairstylist is here. It’s about time.”
You roll your eyes and start to prep your station. “I’m not your hairstylist indefinitely. I’m the Grandmaster’s and in case you haven’t noticed, I have him wrapped around my finger.”
Loki stands from his chair and makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a less casual outfit; green shirt and black leather pants. He looks like he’s out a 2000’s grunge music video. “Oh, I have noticed, mortal. I don’t know how you did it, but it won’t be long before I am the one that the Grandmaster follows. You will surely know your place soon.” he growled at you.
“Yeah, the whole subjection thing didn’t work on Earth, what makes you think it works here?”
“So you do know who I am? Good. You best remember my powers and don’t forget what I can do to you.” He towers over you threateningly. In the past, you would have cowered in fear. But the fact that Loki is threatening you--you, a “lowly” mortal--means that he feels threatened by you; which means that you have leverage.
“On Earth, I’m sure that means something. But here? It means nothing. If you were to harm me, the Grandmaster would use his melty stick on you. I’d love to see a so-called god stand up to that weapon. I wonder what color you will be when you melt? Will you be green? Or black like your heart?” You don’t give him the chance to respond, turning around to finish your prep work; but he grabs your wrist.
“Watch yourself mortal. I can make you vanish and make it look like you never left at the same time.” His eyes are crazy; the resemblance of a mad-man. He snaps his fingers and a hand touches his shoulder-- your hand.
A clone of yourself, with a snatched waist and wearing a short, short dress comes around his side. It’s an exact replica of you, except Loki made you look more provocative. He smiles at your clone and she trails her fingers on his face. “Oh yes, master. I would make a much better y/n, than her . I think that the Grandmaster would agree. Maybe I can finally fully pleasure the Grandmaster.” The clone closes her eyes and moans, Loki eyes roam over her-- your -- body.
You know it’s Loki talking, but how he uses your voice and your face to say these things...it’s too much. You fight to make him let go of you. “You’re sick.” you whisper.
He tightens his grip on your wrist and you let out a whimper unconsciously. He pushes you back against a wall and begins to crush you with his body.
“Let go of me, Loki. You’re hurting me.”
“Did you like that display? I certainly did. Who knew you could be so sexy if you actually tried?”
He pushes you further against the wall. Your breasts are against his chest and with your low top it pushes them up. His sly gaze glances down, taking in the view. He shoves your wrist above your head. “Perhaps I’ll keep you as my plaything. I love subjugating mortals both inside and outside of the bedroom.”
Your eyes widen and go to kick him in the balls, but his stops you. He starts laughing, “It’s useless, mortal. You’re weak. You think you have power, but you don’t--and everyone here knows it.”
“Let go of me, Loki.” You grit out. He finally recedes, letting go of you. You look down at your wrist and it’s bruised. Loki scared you a bit, but when he pushed you against the wall...you felt something else, which scared you more. The memory of your clone burns into your head, especially the seductive gaze Loki gave her, no you.
You take this time to leave the room. “I’m getting a damn ice pack. My wrist is bruised.” You mutter. Green wraps around your wrist and you cry out, startled. The throbbing in your wrist is gone and you turn to Loki.
“What was that?” you spat at him, still mad about earlier.
“I healed you. You’re so fragile. I expect a thank you.”
“Thank you? It’s your fault my wrist was like that. I will not say thank you.” Loki is about to retort when the Grandmaster walks in with his entourage.
“Y/n! Lokes! Glad to find you here.” He looks between you two and asks, “Is everything okay?”
You immediately put on your smile and make your way to the Grandmaster. “Of course, Lokes here was just telling me about his pitiful planet and it makes Sakaar look like an even better planet.” You let out a laugh and hang on the Grandmaster’s shoulder, glaring at Loki. He glares right back.
“Yeah, Asgard sounds more like ass gard. Am i right?” the Grandmaster asks and his entire entourage laughs.
“Yes, yes. It is rather unimpressive compared to this place,” Loki admits, but you can tell he’s lying through his teeth. “Anyways, will you be getting your hair done, Grandmaster?”
“Mine? Oh no, y/n already came this morning and washed my hair. Can’t you tell? She has something called shampoo . It’s magical! And her, how do you say, hairbrush works wonders. I didn’t have a good impression of Earth, but I must say; they have great hair products!” He runs a finger through his hair and you smile. It looks shiny and healthy today.
“Now,” the Grandmaster says, clapping his hands together, “Y/n, get started on Lokes hair. I mean he did have trash in his hair yesterday. I see you finally got the fella huh? What was it? Food wrapper? Toilet paper?”
“No, it was a used condom.” Loki smirks and looks at you. You feel a rush of revulsion course through you.
“Did you clean your hair last night?” you ask, finally addressing Loki.
He shakes his head and comes closer. It’s now that you see how dirty his hair is. It’s much dirtier than yesterday! What did he do? Roll around in the garbage? “Last night I found myself outside and fell in the garbage. I knew it was a waste of time to clean my hair, as I could never get my hair as clean as y/n can.” It’s the first time he used your name and you know it’s because he just said the word garbage. He’s comparing you to garbage.
“It had a horrible smell last night, but I waited until this morning. I can’t wait to see what else y/n finds in my hair.” He smiles innocently at you, batting his eyelashes. Damn snake.
“Ooooh, sounds nasty.” The Grandmaster says, laughing. “Good thing we got, y/n. Now, go get to work on Loki’s hair.”
You take a second to glare at Loki before nodding. Making your way to your station to grab a pair of gloves. “Oh no, y/n! No gloves! I want Lokes to experience your hands, besides how will you get the garbage out of his hair?”
You’re facing Loki, not the Grandmaster so he can’t see your face. Loki is smiling from the washing station chair, using his finger to beckon you. You glare as hard you can.
The Grandmaster leaves, saying his cousin betrayed him, so he gets to use the melty stick. It’s just you and Loki now.
“Well, mortal. What are you waiting for?” Loki leans his head back into the sink and crosses his legs. “Get to work.”
You stand behind, debating whether you should yank his hair out, when you begin to smell something wretched. It’s Loki’s hair and you gag on the stench.
Fucking Loki rolled around in garbage to torture me. He’s damn committed to making my life hell.