Chapter 3
Fucker. Fucking hell. Mother fucker.
The shampoos, conditioners, masks, and homemade oils are lined up at your station. You turned on your essential oils, lit candles, and had a diffuser next to you. Nothing helped the stench emitting from Loki’s hair.
“For a so-called ‘King,’ I’m surprised that you would stoop yourself to such a low position. You smell like bumpkin.” You’re delaying the inevitable--and Loki knows it.
“As much as you try to distract me with your words, you still will have to clean my hair. I suggest starting at the back. I made sure that the garbage was really cemented into my roots.” He smiles, unbothered.
You finally lean closer to him and it’s a little unnerving; you’re about to give Loki, the god who tried to subjugate your world, a deep cleansing. You turn on the water, making it a little colder than normal, to punish Loki.
“I love the cold water, mortal. In fact, you could make it colder.” He smiles. You roll your eyes.
As you move around the water, pieces of trash begin to fall from his hair. Clumps of toilet paper (used? You’re not sure), pieces of wrappers, and some old food. Ugh, how could Loki sleep like this? You throw the trash away into a trashcan. You can’t help making a disgusted face. It pleases Loki.
“I’m glad that you’re suffering this much. I hope that you’ll remember this the next time you try to vex me.” He smiles happily and closes his eyes.
“Eh, remember this you try to vex me,” you say in a mocking voice, mumbling to yourself and shaking your head. You tug on his hair for good measure. His eyes pop open and glare at you.
“Do not pull on my hair.” He growls.
“Why? Are you forming a bald spot? How old are you anyway? If you’re a god, then you must be like old, old. Maybe instead of ‘Lokes’ I’ll call you grandpa, how you like that?” You start laughing and grab the shampoo. Loki snatches it from your hands.
“You will not call me grandpa or this ‘Lokes.’ If you must address me, then it may be the following: your highness, sire, sir, or even...master. I think the last one has a nice ring to it. Can you say ‘Yes Master’ in a lovely, breathy voice?” He mocks you and says “Yes Master” in a breathy, moany voice.
Pissed, you reach forward to grab the shampoo bottle and two things happen: the water from the sink squirts all over your thin, white shirt; essentially making your shirt see through; and as you reach for the shampoo bottle, you reach over Loki--putting your shirt in his face, with a full view of your bra and breasts into his face. Of course, you don’t realize any of this and keep desperately trying to reach for the shampoo.
“Give. Me. The. Shampoo. Bastard!” With each word, you try to reach for it and Loki pulls it away. He’s laughing with heart now and you feel his laugh through your body.
“I do love our games and I must say, I had no idea that you had such large breasts, my dear. They feel quite soft and appealing squished against my face.” He moves his face and his nose literally goes into your cleavage.
You squeak and move backwards, pulling up your shirt. Loki continues to laugh and his eyes crinkle. He’s genuinely smiling now and you hate him, because he looks fucking beautiful. He’s playing with you but you still find him attractive. What is wrong with you?
His face is also wet likely from your wet chest in his face. Suddenly, you start laughing with him. “Very funny Loki. Good one!” It’s so fake you can’t help it. Loki stops laughing and looks up at you again. This time, you have a creepy smile on your face. “What are you planning, mortal?” he asks.
Smiling still, you take the conditioner and slather it in his hair. You begin massaging it into his head. The dirt in his hair makes the water black. Disgusting. You begin humming as you grab something else and massage it into his head.
For now, Loki seems distracted by your hands. “The Grandmaster was right to praise you--your hands are quite magical.” He closes his eyes again and lets his guard down.
You continue to massage and work your magic. You’re slowly running your hands along his scalp and smothering in more conditioner. The smell of the conditioner overtakes the smell of the garbage and Loki’s hair feels incredibly smooth.
You dig your fingers deep into his scalp, imagining that you’re digging into his stupid brain. Loki moans from the assault of your hands. “Mmmmm...I can feel you digging your fingers into my scalp. I can see that you’re enjoying giving me pleasure.” His eyes are closed and he’s still smirking.
You dig a little harder, hoping it hurts. As if he can read your mind, Loki says “You couldn’t hurt me if you want to, mortal. But keep trying your best.”
You’ll get your revenge soon enough!
“Okay, it’s all done!” You spin Loki around in the chair and reveal his hair to him. You had just dried and styled his hair. You wanted to cut his hair, but he didn’t trust you with scissors. He poofed them away and you literally can’t find them.
Loki’s face is one of shock, then he growls, “What did you do to my hair?”
You stifle a laugh. Loki didn’t hand you the shampoo, so you technically didn’t clean his hair or take away any oils. Instead, you slathered it in a conditioner; hair masks; and oils. His hair looked like a greasy rat on his head. He had a ton of buildup and it lacked any sort of shine or bounce. It laid flat on his head. “I think this is rather fitting, don’t you? You look like you don’t take care of yourself. The hair is greasy and has a lot of buildup. I like to think of buildup as emotions. We all know that you have a ton of built up anger, rejection, betrayal...etc. Hair is a reflection of your inside, so I find it soooo very fitting.”
He drags his hands through his hair and you can’t help but stifle your laughter. However, your laughter ends, because Loki’s hair is looking better. The grease is still there, but it’s not completely flat against his hair. He looks like Johnny Depp. In fact, it looks worn in and (you had to admit it) but good. How did he do that? “Damn you, Loki. How did you fix your hair?”
He’s still moving his hair around and staring vainly in the mirror. He turns around and has a wide smile before sauntering over to you. His saunter is lazy, cat-like. “I must say mortal, my hair does look excellent. I haven’t had greasy hair since my attack on Midgard. Do you find it appealing?” His smirks lazily, looking over his shoulder at you.
“It seems like your hair is just as pathetic as your failed attempt on Earth.” You snap. Before you can finish, you see Loki’s eyes swirling with rage.
Suddenly a hand circles around my throat. It’s not Loki’s, it’s not man’s, but a woman’s. It’s your hand. He’s conjured your clone, again.
The hand closes around your throat and you tense up. Despite it being your hand, it has Loki’s strength. You feel your clone’s breath against your neck. “Look at him.” The clone spits out.
You glance down at Loki and he’s looking right at you. His green eyes, mischievous and his sharp features create such a juxtaposition. His widow peak perfectly frames his face. “Hmm….now listen here, mortal. Your job is to clean my hair. You’re here to serve me. If you ever forget your place…” the hand around your throat grows bigger and you feel the presence behind you grow as well. “...just know that I will always be here to put you back into place.” this time it’s Loki’s clone behind you and his hand is around your throat. His body is pressed against yours again. His groin pushed into your ass. You can’t help the rush of arousal that goes through your body, but you know that this is wrong. He’s threatening you.
“Let go of me. I get the point.” you say. The Loki in front of you disappears and the only one left is the one behind you.
“Good. You know, from this angle--with my hand around your throat and your body so complicit--I’m beginning to see the appeal behind you.” Before things could get any worse, the Grandmaster walks in.
“Ah, what’re you two doing?” He asks before seeing Loki’s hair. “And what happened to Loki’s hair?”