Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why can’t you please understand what kind of man I’ve got to be?

You’re saying I’m such a fool

Hiding my thoughts away from you

You’re right and it’s driving you wild

I’m sorry I’m a cool cat, baby

You can’t persuade me to play your game

You turn your nose up

Whenever ever I do the same

The way to move is all so smooth

I’m cool!

I know you want to hold me, cool cat…

-“You Make Me Cool” from the Cowboy Bebop OST

So a demigod walks into a meadery.

Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it?

But honest to Odin, I was behind the bar finishing up with one of my regulars when the doors to The Honey Trap meadery opened and spilled in sunlight and the most extra, dapper motherfucker I’d ever laid eyes on.

He was tall enough that someone of average height would have to crane their neck to look into his handsome, vulpine face. He had sooty black hair elegantly and naturally curled at the ends that hung to his neck, sparkling and mischievous blue-green eyes, a sharp grin, and an even sharper charcoal suit with a burgundy tie and burgundy dress shoes. An expensive watch flashed on his wrist as he smoothed those dark locks off his forehead and had a look around at my meadery, noting the oakwood finish and the happy customers chatting freely in the late afternoon. Nearly every person turned to gawk at him as he strolled over to my bar as casual as anything, as if he himself didn’t know he was a Norse god of legend.

“Góðan aptan,” Loki of Asgard said in Old Norse once he was within earshot, smiling as he leaned an elbow on the bar to be level with me. “I’ve heard tell that you are just the woman I want to see.”

“Am I?” I said, quirking an eyebrow up as I finished rinsing the glass and put in the rack to dry. “What is that I can do for you, your majesty?”

Those wicked eyes gleamed with interest. “Ah, so you’re familiar. Wonderful. Saves me time. I’ve recently been put onto your meadery from an associate. He tells me that it might be something worthy of Asgard’s notice, so I figured I’d come ‘round and find out for myself. Would you be willing to let me sample some of Midgard’s feeble attempts at the mastery of mead-making?”

I snorted. “So you’re a smartass. Makes sense. They said you were. Now, why exactly should I take time out of my busy schedule to entertain someone who thinks that my mead-making is feeble?”

“For bragging rights, of course,” he said, spreading his arms for emphasis. “Don’t you want to say that you were able to put a god in his place? Don’t all bar maidens dream of such lofty things?”

I smirked. “Ah, yes, you clearly have your fingers to the pulse of us bar maidens’ desires.”

Loki chuckled. “I happen to be an expert in the area, but that is a story for another day. Would you be so kind as to let me try what you consider your best brew?”

I pursed my lips as I finished refilling another customer’s mug. “I don’t know. You’re trouble. It’s written all over you, as if my prior knowledge of your preoccupations wasn’t enough.”

“I assure you I mean you and your patrons no harm whatsoever. I will be a docile kitten if you indulge me, my sweet.”

After I passed the customer the mug, I stood there with a hand on my hip and squinted at him, trying to see past the foppish mask. He waited patiently with that infuriating smile that told me he’d come here to try and make a fuss for his own amusement. I could always rebuff him, of course. It was my place, after all.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Tell you what,” I said finally after making the demigod wait. “If you can guess what’s in this mead sample that I give you, I’ll let you try a whole glass of each, your choice. Do we have a deal, your highness?”

“Oh, we have a deal indeed, pet,” he purred, offering his hand. “Nothing I like more than a challenge.”

I took his hand in return. He paused long enough to kiss the back of mine. Color rose in my cheeks. Damn him. That worked on me, I could admit it. I pretended not to be affected as I turned and walked over to the wall of barrels, humming to distract myself from how flustered he’d made me with a simple gesture of courtesy.

Loki had been on Earth for about six months. His arrival with Thor and the rest of Asgard and some beings from a place called Sakaar had been a huge deal. In the end, the world governments agreed not to put him in chains if he agreed to basically community service for the rest of his thousands of years of life. There had been a call for his head on a plate after New York, but he and Thor went out of their way to prove he was a changed man, and the world eventually started to let him integrate into our society. I knew he lived up on the Avengers estate in upstate New York, and I knew he’d been on an apology tour pretty much since the day they decided not to throw him in prison. He’d been hobnobbing with celebrities and charming everyone in interviews, and I admit that I’d been fascinated by him long before he’d made a return to Earth. The Battle of New York was a horrible ordeal with massive loss of life, but the confirmation of aliens and other dimensions was fascinating, so I’d been following nearly everything about the Avengers for a long time.

Never thought in a million years I’d meet one, though.  

I made my final decision and poured the Norse god a decent enough amount for a taste. I brought it over to him and he swirled it in the mug first, inhaling its aroma. His eyes closed and that velvet voice hummed attractively for a second. “Mm, already a good sign.”

He took a generous sip. I could see him tasting it for a moment before swallowing. His thick brows lifted as if he were impressed, which ruffled my feathers quite a lot. I took pride in my meadery, dammit. I’d worked very hard to establish myself and make the best product possible.

He licked his lips—which was admittedly distracting as hell—and then straightened up, nodding to me. “My, my, bar maiden. You come highly recommended for a reason. Robust, flavorful, but not too overpowering, not too sweet. I tip my hat to thee.”

I curtsied, and it made him laugh. He had a wickedly warm laugh that I quite liked. “Now then, what’s in it?” I asked.

“You’ve given me a cyster,” he said with no small amount of smug energy in his answer. “Which means honey, apple cider, wine yeast, yeast nutrient, peptic enzyme, acid blend, and wine tannin.”

I smiled as I nodded in confirmation. “Very good, your majesty. Right on all counts. Can’t get anything past you.”

“I try to make it a point that people don’t get anything past me,” he confessed, then drank the rest and handed me the mug. I beckoned him to the wall and he followed dutifully.

“Where shall we start?”

Loki clasped his big hands and leaned on the bar, reading the names on the barrels and then checking them up against the digital display above them with their types. They were separated by type, so I had cysters, traditional mead, melomel, metheglin, braggot, acerglyn, hippocras, hydromel, morat, rhodomel, sparkling mead, and sour mead color-coded. He rubbed his chin as he perused the drink selection, eventually pointing. “Let’s try a melomel next.”

I poured him a mug. He took another generous sip and shut his eyes again, humming. “Oh, how I’m brought back to my youth at this wonderful flavor.”

“And what counts as youth to someone who lives five-thousand years?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Oh, you know, five-hundred years,” he said faux-casually, winking at me. “I was but a young sprig of a god then.”

“I did read that Vikings had a kid friendly version of mead that was served to children,” you mused as you watched him appreciatively gulp it down. “I’m partial to a black mead on occasion.”

“Oh, yes, black currant is a fabulous flavor for mead,” he said as he passed the empty mug over to me. “Tell me, what else do you enjoy of the melomels?”

“Bochet,” I said as I went back to the wall. I tapped one of the barrels. “This one, in fact, I use after a very long shift and I need something to unwind.”

“Let’s have it, then.” I poured him the bochet, which was a caramelized mead, and he gave it a try.

“Rich,” he said, nodding. “Sweet enough without being sugary. You must tell me how it is that you came to make such fine mead.”

I winked. “Trade secret, I’m afraid.”

“How might one earn your secrets, pray tell?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “They didn’t tell me you were a flirt, y’know.”

“They didn’t?” he mused. “How awful. There is nothing I love more than flirting. Does it bother you, pet? I can most certainly refrain from doing so, if that’s the case.”

I eyed him. “I’m onto you, sir.”

He widened those beautiful eyes to look innocent. “Me?”

“That comment is a trap.”

He grinned. “How do you figure, darling?”

“If I say yes, then I don’t get your most charming witty repartee, but if I say no, then I admit that I find your flirtations enjoyable.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m afraid such things are expected when associating with a trickster god. I have to imagine you knew this day might come when you learned of my arrival to Midgard.”

I snorted. “I very much did not. I never in a thousand years thought you’d walk through that door, not when you’re used to nothing but the finer things in life.”

“Is not this mead one of the finer things?” he challenged, raising his half-empty glass. “I don’t see why you would think Asgardians wouldn’t flock to your fine establishment considering its quality.”

He then shrugged a shoulder. “And if for some reason they find the mead less than satisfactory, there is always the company.”

I willed myself not to blush. “Did you come here with the intention of making me fall in love with you?”

He laughed then, quite hard, and it made me proud. “It was not my intention, no, but it will be quite a lovely byproduct of our association if it happens.”

I chuckled again as he passed the empty mug back to me. “Shameless. I’m more than sure you have enough adoring fans that you don’t need me to join the ranks.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, darling. ‘Tis not about quantity, but quality. I like a quality woman.” He rubbed his chin. “Let’s try a metheglin next. Give me one of your personal choices.”

I paused, deliberating, and then chose a barrel. Loki drank half in one go. “Oh, this I like. Well-spiced indeed. If you won’t tell me your mead secrets, then tell me what first interested you in becoming a mead maker.”

“Now, I’m a bartender, you know,” I teased. “It’s a two-way street. I won’t confess unless I can ask something in return.”

“An equal exchange,” he said, nodding. “I’m agreeable to it. What is that you’d like to know, pet?”

“Tell me something that wasn’t in the papers nor in one of your interviews.”

He squinted at me. “Hmm…you’re very intrusive, aren’t you?”

“No more than you, I’m afraid.”

“Mm. You’re not wrong.” He took a long pull, staring at me over the rim the whole time. “This is the first meadery that I have visited on Midgard. And I chose it…”

He paused as if deciding to give me the last bit of information. “…because of you.”

I tilted my head. “Me?”

“Aye. I read up on you. You’re the premiere meadery in the state, but it’s more than that.” He smiled softly. “I also read that you are considered a pillar of the community, often running charity events for sick children and working with food pantries to set up relationships with local hives and restaurants. It became very apparent to me that the mead is not the only sweet thing in this bar.”

For the first time in my entire life, a man left me speechless.

No, not a man, I suppose. A god.

“Oh,” I said quietly afterward, my blush now having consumed my neck and entire face. “Um, thank you, your highness. It’s not every day a gal gets a compliment from a god prince.”

“It’s well-earned. I don’t do cheap flattery. This mead is exceptional, but how could it not be? It came from an exceptional woman, after all.”

I buried my burning face in both hands. “Stop it, for the love of God.”

“How fitting,” he teased. “For love is indeed what this god is offering to thee.”

I started giggling before I could stop it. “Oh, come on, Loki. That one was corny even for you.”

He started giggling too. “Couldn’t help myself. I suppose you bring that out in me, bar maiden. Now then, as they say—quid pro quo. What made you decide to open a meadery, pray tell?”

“My mother,” I said, tucking my hands into my jean pockets. “She was a bartender. I grew up helping her make cocktails and passing beers out to bikers. Loved every second of it, but I wanted to do something challenging instead of just opening up a microbrewery. I’d always liked mead, so I decided it would be the right creative business venture for me in the long run.”

“And quite an impressive one, at that. The papers said you’ve been up and running for more than twelve years. It suits you.” He finished that particular drink and then offered the mug to me. “Let’s make this next one interesting, hmm?”

Loki rubbed his hands together. “I shall try and guess your favorite.”

“For what?” I mused. “Bragging rights?”

“I think we should make a wager.”

“Oh? Of what?”

He beamed at me. “Well, I do so wish for you to fall in love with me. If I guess right, you will allow me to take you out for a night on the town. If I guess wrong…”

Loki seemed to consider the bar for a moment, then snapped his fingers. He made a gesture with his hand and one of his daggers magically appeared out of thin air. He then offered it to me hilt-first. “If I’m wrong, you may have this as a souvenir. It’s from my private weapon collection.”

I spun the dagger between my fingers, admiring its workmanship. We actually had some ancient Viking weapons mounted throughout my bar that I’d collected over the years, so he was right that it was a good prize to win. “Alright, your highness, you’re on.”

I gestured to the wall of barrels. “Which one’s my favorite?”  

Loki rubbed his chin, those intelligent eyes wandering from barrel to barrel. When he was done examining them, he turned his gaze to me. “Hmm…let’s see. Can I divine the choice from what little I know about you? You’re intelligent and shrewd, but you have a sense of humor and are compassionate. Your mead pricing is comfortable rather than being too low or too high, allowing for the average person to be able to try some if they’d like. The décor is carefully chosen and surprisingly, I see no signs of replications or forgeries in your Viking collectibles in particular. Your meads are all intricately flavored, so we can discern that you are also organized and disciplined, likely a trait passed down by your wonderful mother. And you have just a touch of mischief about you, so I shall go with…”

Loki straightened as he answered. “…morat.”

I stared him. He stared at me. And the other nosy ass bar patrons stared too.

Then I slow clapped. “Well done, your majesty. Right on the money.”

Loki beamed at me. “Lovely. A good choice, no doubt.”

“The best for me,” I said as I filled his glass. “Would you like to try some others?”

“Oh, most certainly, but I don’t want to borrow any more of your time than I already have.” He reached into his pocket and whipped out a coin purse after he finished the morat in the glass. “How much for a bottle of each?”

“Each what?”

“Each mead.”

My jaw dropped. “Uh…you want one bottle of literally every single one that I make?”

"Yes, of course."

I sputtered for a second. No one had ever asked me that before, not once. Naturally, there were people who bought multiple bottles, but not my entire inventory. That usually only happened if someone hosted an event at the meadery and we had everything on tap for their clients. “Uh, I would have to tally it up since there are twenty-eight varieties, but I have to imagine it’s in the neighborhood of a thousand dollars before taxes?”

He withdrew five gold coins and placed them on the bar top. “I believe that should equal to the amount in gold currency.”

“Thank you?” I scooped the coins up. They were brilliantly shiny and heavy, made with intricate patterns and it looked like the marks scored on them were indeed written in Asgardian. Wow.

“Here, write down your address where you’d like them delivered.” I handed him an order form after I filled out the top and he put his address down.

“Now then,” he said, his eyes gleaming with wickedness again. “When can I see you again, pet?”

“How’s Thursday?” I said sweetly.

Loki chuckled. “Cute. Yes, that would be just fine. Shall I pick you up here or at your domicile?”

“What are we going to do?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, my dear lass.”

“Here’s fine. I’ll be getting off my midday shift, so seven o’clock?”

“Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you again. You are a lovely bar maiden. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I found it very easy to return his smile. “I’ll try my best. Until Thursday, your highness.”

I offered my hand again. He kissed it, his smile sweeter than the mead I’d served him. “Until Thursday, my sweet little bar maiden.”

And with that, the god was gone.

Chapter Text

If we get our full three score and ten

We won't pass this way again

So kiss me with your mouth open

And turn the tires towards the street

And stay sweet! 

-"Dilaudid" by The Mountain Goats

I knew damn well there was no way I could pretend like going out with a demigod prince wasn’t a big deal, so I behaved accordingly. I caught an evening spa appointment that same night and got my skin totally exfoliated and glowing healthily. It also loosened up my stiff joints from standing all day long serving mead.

You know. In case being flexible might be…relevant tonight.

After that, I scoured through my closet until I found the appropriate attire—a sleeveless dress with a deep forest green base that had a metallic shine to it and black lace rose patterns throughout with a slightly flared skirt. I paired it with silver and green jewelry, did my makeup, and finished the look with a pair of cute, but not too high heels. I then put a bolero jacket over it for style and warmth and made my way to the bar for my midday shift. (Note the heels weren’t going to be worn until it was time to go; I’m not a fool.)

Naturally, my coworkers gave me shit about the fact that I was about to go on a date with a demigod. I mean, wouldn’t your friends do the same?

“So are you ready for your—wait for it—heavenly date?” one of my full-time bartenders, Stan, teased. He was tall and lithe with dreadlocks to his waist and one of the brightest smiles I’d ever seen.

“Hardy-har-har,” I said as I finished slicing a lemon. “Maybe don’t mock me so much—this is going to get us some free publicity, you know. More drinks, more tips, more customers.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot that your end goal was altruism,” Stan said with a playful roll of his eyes. “Clearly, you’re taking one for the team.”

I threw one of the clean rags at him while he cackled. “You’re just jealous.”

“My bisexual ass is jealous,” Stan chortled in return as he passed a customer a beer. “Even if he’s a former warlord, he’s easy on the eyes.”

I scowled. “Gee, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Why, what a shame,” came a mellifluous voice to my right. “I thought my looks were my best quality.”

I turned to find that Loki had slithered up to my side of the bar while my back was turned. He grinned at me as he held out a bouquet of gorgeous purple and white flowers. I couldn’t help the blush and the sheepishly shy feeling that arose at seeing the display. Men these days weren’t exactly gentlemen. It had been quite a while since I’d seen this gesture and appreciated it greatly. “I thought that would be your infamous Silvertongue.”

“Quite true,” he said silkily as he handed the flowers to me, then pulled the barrier up so I could get from behind the bar. “How are you, my darling?”

“Great,” I said, inhaling the beautiful scent of the flowers. “Thank you. I don’t know how much you know about modern times, but men don’t buy flowers as much anymore. This is really nice of you.”

Loki tipped his head to me in respect. “I take courtship quite seriously. I think it’s only fair to treat my lady with respect and honor, offering presents and things to show I find her interesting.”

He then glanced me over and the grin widened. “Especially when she is nice enough to wear my motif colors on our date. I’m flattered.”

I tried not to preen; I loved that he’d noticed. “When in Rome. Or Asgard, as it were.”

“Indeed.” He offered his elbow. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” I turned to Stan. “Hold down the fort, old boy.”

He saluted me. “Have a magical time!”

I rolled my eyes and flipped him off, which made my date laugh as we left.

“What dastardly plans does the God of Mischief have for this innocent little bar maiden?” I asked, batting my lashes playfully as we stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, just the thing to help you relax and enjoy your night off,” he said mysteriously, beckoning me to a limousine idling in a spot near the front of the bar. I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t driving; it would probably take a tedious amount of time to learn our low tech methods of transportation and I was sure all that gold I’d seen in his coin purse came from Asgard’s vault, however it had survived after the planet’s destruction, so he could afford it. “It will be a bit of a ride out of town, but not too far.”

I eyed the open door to the limo. “And you’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

Loki waggled his brows. “Nay. I want it to be a surprise.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You’re asking for a lot of trust, you know.”

“I do, but I do hope my intentions seem clear to you. You have my word no harm shall come to you in my presence. I can be a gentleman, after all.”

“Well, I don’t think you’d make this big of a production if you were going to knock me out and steal my kidneys, so I guess I’ll just have to go with the flow.” I slipped inside the limo and he followed. The driver pulled away from the curb and we merged into New York traffic.

The interior of the limousine was spotless. Loki sat across from me and gestured to the wet bar. “May I?”

“Please do.”

He poured me some champagne—a damn fine one, in fact—and then offered a little tray that had chocolate covered strawberries on it. I was also delighted to see him join me in eating them. “You know, one thing Midgard has over Asgard is certainly its confectionary treats. I have always adored chocolate. It’s by far one of the most genius things Midgard has invented aside from coffee.”

I laughed. “Yeah, we’re good about making ridiculously indulgent foods.”

“Indeed. We mostly only sweetened things with honey and sugar, but I’ve come to find all sorts of little delights here, especially here in New York where many of them make them by hand. There is an artistry to it, candy-making. Perhaps that is why I favor your mead so much—it’s easy to tell the love and care you put into every barrel.”

I blushed. “Well, I just know that mead comes from a long history and it even predates most kinds of alcohol, so it should be made with love and care.”

“Believe me, seeing that aspects of my culture are preserved and thriving on Midgard is an enormous boon after losing our homeworld.”

I winced. “Yes, I read about that. I’m so sorry. That must have been extremely difficult.”

“It was, but Asgardians are resilient if nothing else.” He then gave me a teasing look. “And since you look full to burst of questions, you may ask them now.”

“Thank God,” I said severely. “I have about a million of them. Hell, just start with however you made that dagger appear out of thin air.”

Loki smiled and flicked his hand, the dagger manifesting like it had always been on his palm. “It’s quite simple. Most of the time, I use a summoning spell. It just summons the dagger from a pocket dimension so it can be concealed yet reached quickly for an emergency. I can also essentially convert matter into a solid object, sort of like creating the thing from scratch just using the atoms in things around us and then changing their elements on the periodic table to be the ones that make up my dagger.”

“Holy shit,” I replied as I spun the dagger between my fingertips. “What an answer. I thought maybe it was a sleight of hand.”

“I can do that too quite easily, but it’s mostly just a summoning spell. It uses very little of my magic as it’s a spell most Asgardian children are taught.”

“Will you really live five-thousand years?”

“Assuming no one kills me, yes.”

I whistled. “What’s it like having that much time ahead of you?”

“It can be somewhat daunting. You have so much time that it’s easy to waste it all doing things that don’t truly matter in the end. I try to find a place where my attention is being held and that seems to work for me. I haven’t been to Midgard in a great many years, so relearning the culture keeps my attention, as does meeting lovely people such as yourself.”

“That’s quite the transformation from when you were here before.”

Loki winced. “Aye. I wear my shame freely; there is no need to hide it.”

“Do people ever attack you for what you did?”

“I’ve had a few scuffles here and there, yes.”

I winced that time. “Sorry. Human nature isn’t exactly always the most pleasant thing to deal with.”

Loki shook his head. “They have every right to hate me. I have done unforgivable things. All I can do is try to atone for them.”

It was good to hear he wasn’t in denial about it, at least. I didn’t miss how dangerous it was for me to be out with a former warlord, after all. I simply thought he was worth the risk. I didn’t want to bring the mood down, so I switched subjects. “Well, you’ve now been to my meadery. What’s something else the demigod prince has tried for the first time during this particular stint on Midgard?”

“I recently went to the opera. I admit I was skeptical at first, but the quality of the performers was exceptional. Enough that I wouldn’t mind attending other performances.”

I chuckled. “I could see that, you dressed in a tuxedo watching some Pavarotti. I take it you like the fine arts?”

“Quite a lot. I’ve had an enjoyable time in your city exploring the museums and relearning the country’s history, especially seeing how society changed after the existence of aliens was made public knowledge.”

“Yeah, we freaked out about as much as predicted, but eventually the world’s governments got the hysteria down to manageable levels. It’s not that outlandish, though. The universe is a big place.”

“Bigger than you know, trust me.” He then smiled as the limousine coasted to a stop. “We’re here.”

I had been so enraptured by the conversation that I didn’t even realize how long we’d been driving. Loki slipped out first, then offered his hand. I stepped out onto cobblestone, finding myself in front of a beautiful sandstone, single story building. It was cool and I could hear crickets and frogs in the brush on the outskirts of the property. There was an enormous decorative fountain, but then I spotted the hand-painted sign near the front door. “We’re at a vineyard?”

“Yes,” Loki said after he shut the door. “I have parlayed for a private tour of the grounds as well as a private guided tasting.”

“Oh, Loki,” I gushed. “This is incredible. I’ve actually never gotten to go to one before; always been too busy and too broke.”

“I figured, as that seems to be the story with many Midgardians.” He once again offered his arm and I took it, walking with him over to the check-in lobby.

“Oh, I’m so delighted you could join us,” a slender red-headed gentleman in navy suit pants, a navy vest, white button-up, and burgundy tie said as he spotted us at the front desk signing in. “My name is Vincent and I’ll be your guide this evening. It is an honor to receive you, your majesty.”

Loki nodded to him. “Thank you for taking our appointment on such short notice. I’m well-acquainted with vineyards, but this is my lovely date’s first time visiting one.”

Vincent shook both your hands in turn, smiling warmly at you. “I can’t wait to get you acquainted with all that we do here. Loki told me you own a meadery, right?”

“I do,” you said, blushing a bit at the attention. “My mom was a bartender, so I grew up around booze, but I just haven’t ever had the time to visit a vineyard.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it. Well, let me break it down for you: first, we’re going to do a walking tour of the grounds, which are decorated for this time of year and it’s really a breathtaking sight to walk among the grapes on a nice summer night. Then, we’ll have some light refreshments and taste test some of our most known wines. After that, we’ll go to the private wine tasting study where you can try some rare wine paired with your dinner, and last, but not least, we’ll let you peruse our dessert menu and pick a bottle of dessert wine to take home with you. How does that sound?”

“Way nicer than I deserve.” That made both men laugh.

“Don’t listen to a word she says,” Loki said, winking at me. “Spoil her. I insist, in fact. It’s very apparent to me she is overworked and doesn’t get to relax often, so I say we should both pamper her to death.”

“I will be more than happy to help,” Vincent said with a teasing grin. “Follow me!”

Vincent gave us an extensive background on how long the vineyard had been up and running, their main kinds of grapes, and their usual clientele. He kept a nice pace as we strolled among the grapes, then the different sections of the vineyard where the wine was produced. We ate from an exceptional charcuterie board as we started to sample the wine, each wine pairing amazingly well with the fine cheese, olives, and cured meats they brought us.

We walked off our snacks and then were sat down before a candlelit table with our own private violinist to serenade us as we drank the private collection’s wine. Dinner was roasted pheasant, mixed green salad, scalloped potatoes with truffle oil, and fresh baked herb bread.

“I think it most fitting to let you choose our dessert and dessert wine,” Loki mused, his brilliant eyes laughing at me over the rim of his wine glass as he finished it. “What would you care to try, pet?”

I perused the little dessert menu. “I have a better idea. Let’s make it a game.”

Loki grinned. “Ah, I love games. Go on.”

“You guess what kind of dessert wine I’d like and I’ll guess what kind of dessert you’d like.”

“Ooh, risky, I like it. Let’s give it a go.” He came over to my side of the table and shared the menu with me, his cologne enticing without being overpowering. It reminded me of mint and loam.

“Hmm, I think I have just the thing for you,” Loki teased. “Let’s see if you’re as astute as I think you are.”

I handed Vincent the menu. “Let’s do the raspberry tiramisu.”

“And pair it with a sparkling sweet wine,” Loki added.

“I’ll be right back with those!” Vincent departed.

I leaned back in my seat with a cool look. “Wow. Only one evening together and you seem like you’ve figured me out.”

“I would never allege such a thing, but I am getting close, aren’t I?”

“To what?” I asked. “What is the God of Mischief’s end game?”

His smile widened. “Why, are you saying you don’t yet know, pet?”

I rested my chin on my folded hands. “Let’s say I have theories, but nothing more.”

“Our fun ends if I simply state it plainly. Instead, I will say that I think you are as fascinating as the many varieties of mead that you produce in your bar. I have an eye for the exceptional, and you are no different, in spite of your modesty.”

“I see. So you’re not trying to seduce me so you can have free mead any time you want, right?”

He touched his chest as if I’d stabbed him. “Why, darling, how could you even think that? I’d do no such thing…on purpose.”

I laughed then. “Glad you’re leaving room for the unknown.”

Vincent returned with the raspberry tiramisu and sparkling wine. It was wonderfully indulgent. I damn near wanted to lick the plate when I was done. Loki had been right—I worked such long shifts that it was often I forgot to take vacations or simply time off. It was great getting to see how the other side lived for once, pampered and spoiled by luxury food and wine. I knew it might be a while before I got to again, so I savored every bite and every sip.

“Did you have vineyards on Asgard?” I asked as he and I did one last lap through the beautiful vines lit with delicate fairy lights.

“Yes, one for the palace and several for the commonfolk,” Loki answered, spinning a grape leaf between his long, dexterous fingers. “My mother’s garden was truly a sight to behold, and she helped maintain the vineyard too, simply out of a love of the work of creating and maintaining wine.”

“A woman after my own heart. Did any of the Asgardian wine survive?”

“Some, yes. I suspect my people might teach it to Midgard once they finish establishing New Asgard in Norway.”

“Will you go over there someday to live?”

He adopted a pensive look. “Mm…not sure? I like it here in this country. I like Norway quite a bit, but it’s a slower pace. I like the constant shifting energies of your city.”

Loki then sent me a flirty wink. “And of course, the company.”

I shook my head. “Careful, your highness. You’re in danger of sounding as if you’re sweet on a lowly little bar maiden.”

He scoffed. “There is not one lowly thing about you, pet. Besides, what if I am? What will you do with this theory?”

“Depends.”

“On what, pray tell?”

I eyed the limousine once it was visible again as we made it to the front of the vineyard, our tour having completed shortly ago when Vincent gifted us the bottle of sparkling dessert wine. “If you’re up for just a little bit more fun tonight.”

“Always,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

I checked the time. “By the time we’d reach my bar, it’d be closed for the night. I thought of a fun drinking game you might like to play with me.”

Loki grinned. “I adore drinking games. Lead the way, my sweet bar maiden.”

I asked the driver to take us to my bar again. I closed just a bit early on Thursdays to give my poor workers a little of their time back and so they could come in slightly later on a Friday to make it feel less tedious. I turned off the alarm and unlocked the door, welcoming the God of Mischief inside once more. I locked the door again and pulled the gate back so no one would get nosy or try to bang on the doors to be let inside after hours.

“The game is simple, but infinitely wicked,” I said as I popped the partition up and eased myself behind the bar. “I don’t suppose you know what body shots are?”

“Afraid not,” the demigod said as he leaned on the bar top eagerly. “What are those?”

I couldn’t stop a fiendish grin as I grabbed a bottle of black mead. “That is a drinking game in which you drink alcohol off of the body of the other person playing the game with you.”

Loki’s dark brows shot up. “Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Now, normally, this is actually done with a type of alcohol called tequila. You either lie down on top of the bar and they pour the shot into your navel and your drinking partner drinks from there or you sprinkle salt over their chest or neck, lick it off, then do the shot, and pluck the lime wedge out of their mouth and squeeze it into yours. Since we’re doing the Viking version, I’d say we do the second one with some alterations.”

I gestured to my outfit. “This dress obviously isn’t conducive to doing a shot from my navel, so I’d say we can adjust by doing coarse sugar to lick off and then—”

I rummaged around in the nearby pantry and came up with chocolate-covered acai berries. “—we lift one of these out of each other’s mouths.”

“Oh, this is utterly intriguing,” he said, his lashes lowering over his eyes to give me a sultry look that made my heart race. “How is it that one of us wins this drinking game?”

I smiled slyly. “First person to make a romantic overture loses.”

“The stakes are temptation,” Loki mused as he slid out of his suit jacket and started to unbutton his dress shirt. “My favorite kind. I cannot wait to play this game with you. Who goes first?”

“Well, it was my idea, so I ought to go first to be fair.” I poured the black mead into a glass while Loki slid out of his shirt.

And I damn near dropped the bottle of mead when I saw that pale, perfectly sculpted chest of his.

Muscles rippled all down the length of his upper torso, his pecs firm and solid, his abs lovingly cut, his hips narrow, a few scars peppered here or there. His arms looked even longer and lither without the suit in the way. He also absolutely noticed me noticing him and had a look of amusement on his features after he set the shirt and tie aside. “Now, my wicked pet, do I get to decide where you pour the coarse sugar?”

I gave him a flip look. “You’re a man. Of course not.”

He laughed. “Yes, I suppose that was a stupid question.”

Loki then pulled himself onto the top of the bar and stretched out after I cleared the space. I poured a bit of coarse sugar into one of the clean and empty peanut bowls, then carefully dusted a thin line across Loki’s collarbone. I opened the bag of chocolate-covered acai berries and then offered it to him. He clutched it between his teeth, holding perfectly still as I poured myself a shot of the black mead.

And then I did a body shot off of a fucking Norse god. Because life makes no sense and I was just gonna fucking roll with it.

I tossed back the shot of black mead. I then leaned over Loki’s supine form with a lascivious smile, taking my sweet damn time to lower my lips to his flushed skin. He yipped just a little bit when the tip of my cool tongue made contact with the edge of his collarbone, sweeping up the kernels of coarse sugar. He hummed as I licked across the line of sugar from one shoulder to the next, his skin tasting unique beneath the sugar. A low aroused rumble echoed in that broad chest by the time I finished lapping up the sugar. I could hear nothing but my own pounding heartbeat as I lifted up towards his face, angling my mouth quite carefully.

And I nearly fainted when my lips just barely brushed his as I plucked the chocolate-covered acai berry free from Loki’s mouth.

Talk about Sploosh City. This was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever dared to do. The temptation to kiss him was nearly overwhelming, but I wanted to last more than thirty seconds into the game, so I didn’t kiss him and instead crunched into the nice treat.

“Your self-control is unmatched,” Loki purred as he sat up, still staring at me with those gleaming eyes half-lidded. “I only hope I can follow your excellent example.”

“Let’s find out.” I took his spot on top of the bar. He poured a thin line of sugar over my collarbone and offered me one of the berries.

But unlike me, the Norse god took a moment to admire me lying there on the bar. He let those eyes run over me from head to toe, his smirk deepening. “Now this is a pretty picture. It’s so very tempting to tease you while I have you here all to myself, but I have a game to win, so…”

He threw back the shot the way I had, then bent over me. I tried not to tremble with desire and anticipation as his tongue darted out and lapped up the sugar. He also went slower than I did and it made me dig my nails into the bar top as the first little warm curl of arousal formed between my clenched thighs. He may have been doing a body shot with mead for the first time, but he was damned good in technique, enough that I was sorely tempted to grab his face and kiss him senseless. Down, girl. Might be time for that later.

“Sweet as honey,” Loki whispered after licking his lips, his pupils dilating as he stared at me with naked want. “I confess it’s been quite some time since I’ve been this…”

His gaze roved over my vulnerable form again. “…tempted.”

A thrill ran down my spine. To think a god could be tempted by little old me. I was living the fucking dream tonight, honestly. I’d never been this daring and playful with another beau. Loki just seemed to bring the mischief of his namesake out in me somehow. The word “same” almost escaped my lips, but I stayed my ground and held the treat between my teeth without confessing.

Inches vanished between us. I knew I was holding my breath when he got close, so keyed up and excited by the promise of what might come next. He nimbly accepted the piece of candy from me, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on my cleavage as he straightened up.

“Looks like we both have amazing self-control,” I said as I sat up, pointedly with my legs on either side of the Norse god standing before me. He had no qualms about it; he rested his hands on the bar top on either side of my thighs, leaning down to my height with that sinister smirk.

“Frustratingly so,” he agreed. “Shall we raise the stakes again?”

I pretended to think about it. “I’m listening.”

His smirk turned evil. “We do it the other way. Shots taken from the navel.”

I suppressed a shudder. Doing it that way was the point of no return. “You sure, God of Mischief?”

“Oh, absolutely sure,” he purred back, looping a lock of my hair around his finger. “There are more than one ways to win a game, after all.”

Boy, were there. “I’m game. Who goes first?”

“Twas my suggestion, so I think it only fair I be first.” He took his spot again and this time bent his legs at the knees to create a flatter surface for his lower torso. It took a lot of out of me to not ogle that magnificent chest as I started to carefully pour the cool black mead in the runnels of his abs. “You know, there’s another part of Viking culture that we’ve kept alive and well these days other than days of the week.”

“Is that so?” he asked, lightly running his fingertip along my outer thigh, making me shiver.

“Mm-hmm. The word honeymoon is rumored comes from Viking origins. The couple would abscond to the woods during the full moon to, ah, carry out married people duties, and mead was always had the first thirty days after the marriage. Thus, honeymoon.”

“Thirty days of nothing but mead and sex?” he chuckled. “I envy the Vikings.”

 “Asgardian princes don’t enjoy such things?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” he murmured back, lightly circling his fingertip at the top of my thigh just beneath the skirt. “At least not this early in the evening.”

“Then let’s hope the mead loosens your tongue, your highness.” I winked, then bent over his belly. I teased the area near the delicious mead with the tip of my tongue, tracing the line that bisected his cobblestone abs until I reached the mead. He sucked in a breath when I drank it, and the rumbling groan that left him finished me off for good. I knew damn well that I was good and horny for the God of Mischief, and if I didn’t do something about it soon, I might actually pop like a balloon.

“You are utterly nefarious,” he accused as he sat up, flushed and hungry and impatient.

I batted my lashes. “Who, me?”

Loki chuckled as he slid off the bar and then gripped my hips, lifting me onto it next. “Yes, thee. You are giving my title a run for its money. I shall have to even the score.”

He leaned in close, his velvet voice dripping with lust. “May I do the honors?”

His hands rested on my thighs. He meant the dress. Fucking hell, did I want to kiss him right now, but I had to keep playing the game, so I instead murmured, “Be my guest, your highness.”

I stretched out on top of the bar. Loki held my gaze as he gathered up the dress material in one hand, sliding it up from my knee, over the knee, over the thigh, and then up to bunch at my hips so it would expose my belly button. I couldn’t even pretend not to hyperventilate from the sheer excitement. He swallowed hard as he spotted my black lace panties beneath the dress, lifting the mead over my belly to pour. He poured just enough to pool there in my navel and then set the bottle aside.

And it was then that he’d had enough behaving, it seemed.

He didn’t start at the cool pooled liquid. He started at where the bunched dress was and kissed his way down slowly but surely, every touch of his lips on the surface of my skin exquisite. He drank the mead to the last drop, then swiped his tongue across the sensitive skin to be sure he got it all.

And as he did, a moan finally slid free from my throat.

And that was all she wrote.

Loki lunged up my body, plunged a hand into my thick hair to draw my head back, and then kissed the living daylights out of me.  

I tasted the black currants, the alcohol, the honey, and most of all, the god himself. I wrapped my arms around his neck to crush his chest to mine, unafraid as I licked his mouth open to explore it myself. Messy kiss after messy kiss followed as he ran his hand down my side and then over my opening through the thin panties. I keened into his mouth and he tore from mine for a scant second, panting like he’d run a marathon. “I admit defeat handily. With your permission, my sweet bar maiden?”

“Yes, my prince,” I whispered in return. "Like you said, there’s more than one way to win a game.”

Chapter Text

Your heart beats another time

Another kiss and you'll be mine

A one-track mind!

You can't be saved!

Oblivion, whoa, is all you crave!

-"Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer

The Norse god in my arms pulled back just enough to take a pull off the bottle of black mead, returning to my lips immediately to clue me in on the game. He let the sweet alcohol pour into my mouth from his and the cool liquid naturally spilled over, gliding in rivulets down my chin, my throat and dripping past my breastbone. Loki let his tongue follow the first path across my jaw to the side of my neck. I clutched the top of the bar to keep still as he licked the black mead from my skin, trying not to whimper as heat infused me from between my legs. The God of Mischief also saw fit to lightly stroke my outer thighs as he chased the droplet’s path to my chest, slurping messily when he found himself between my breasts.

“May I?” he purred once he’d gone as far down into the neckline of my dress as it would allow. I nodded too many times, excited beyond measure that he’d asked first.

Loki flicked the straps of my forest green, rose-patterned dress from my shoulders and slid the soft material down until it pooled at my hips. He took off my emerald necklace and then set upon me like a wolf in heat, squeezing my ass through the panties as he feasted on my bared flesh. I bucked my hips against the bulge in his groin as he licked and nibbled hickeys all over my throat, equal parts tasting the spilled mead and tasting my bare skin.

My impatience peaked as I undid his belt and tossed it aside, unzipping his slacks and plunging a hand into them. I moaned as I felt the outline of his cock against my palm—huge, long, already pulsing with desire.

“I see they don’t beat around the bush on Midgard,” he mused with a little throaty chuckle as he felt me stroking him just as he lifted me enough to drag my dress free. “Just as well. I had a gut feeling you’d be a sultry little minx in my bed. Terrifically pleased to learn my theory is true.”

“Mm. But is the reverse true, your highness? Will you live up to all my theories?”

“All implies quite a lot,” he replied, sweeping those big hands up my sides to find the clasp to my bra. “Would you indulge me by disclosing one of those theories?”

My eyes fluttered shut all by themselves as his hot hands claimed my breasts, lightly stroking my nipples stiff with his thumbs. “I always imagined you feral. Lots of biting and rough, fast sex. Heavy on foreplay. Heavy on edging too—you like to tease your partner and draw their pleasure out for long periods of time. You get validation out of being an exceptional lover, after all.”

“My, my. You are a perceptive little bird, aren’t you?” He captured my lips again as he lightly massaging my breasts, growling softly as my hand-job increased in pace through his black boxer-briefs from how impatient I was getting. “And is that how you want me, darling? Feral, rough, and fast?”

“I want whatever you want,” I said in return, then smirked. “But I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Lovely.” He then bent and slipped my left breast inside his mouth. I cried out as the delicious heat and wetness shot a streak of pleasure directly down into the furnace between my legs. I wouldn’t be outdone, so I then tugged the hem of his boxer-briefs down and fisted his huge cock at long last. He groaned throatily and switched to my right breast, unable to help thrusting against my palm with a desirous grunt.

“So wicked,” he murmured as he tipped me back against the flat surface of the bar, letting his scorching mouth wander to my upper belly, then over my abdomen. I didn’t miss how he left my heels on as he raked my panties off, his pupils dilating until a thin ring of green remained as he spied my wet slit. “It has been far too long since I last worshiped at a woman’s altar. Again, do I have your permission, pet?”

I shuddered, humbled by the power he’d given me. “Yes, your majesty.”

He stretched me out completely and propped my legs up on those broad shoulders, tugging me down so my ass was to the edge of the bar. My eyes slid shut just as his warm breath curled over my inner thighs. I tried not to think about the fact that a Norse fucking god was about to go down on me in my own meadery; my head would definitely explode if I did so.

Loki’s Silvertongue moved with sinister intent, starting at the base and then licking a slow stripe over me all the way up to my clit. It dragged a full-bodied, piteous moan from my throat as a shuddering wave of pleasure flushed up my overheated body. He circled the spot with loving care for a few seconds, then licked his lips and rumbled, “Just as I thought—sweet as the mead you so lovingly brew.”

I covered my burning face with both hands. “Loki!”

“I’m afraid now is not the time for modesty, pet. Now it’s time to play.”

He then slipped two long fingers inside me and latched his searing, skilled mouth to my spot.

And proceeded to finger-fuck me to hell and back.

“Oh my fucking God—fuck!” I clapped a hand over my mouth to muffle any further exclamations as the first swell of pleasure licked up my body. I collapsed to the bar top, my eyes crossing, then closing as Loki dipped those delicate, pianist fingers inside me over and over, fucking me mad in nothing flat. His sinful mouth remained at its post at my clit, licking and circling it relentlessly in rhythm with his fingers. His other hand had slid down to mind his cock, stroking it harder and harder every passing minute.

“Mm, you taste divine, my darling,” the demigod hummed some time later, seeing fit to give me just a few seconds of peace as he emerged from between my damp thighs. “But I can feel you holding back.”

“It’s…been a while for me,” I stammered out as I peeled my eyes open to look at him. “Don’t want it to be over too soon.”

He offered a brief sympathetic look. “That’s a shame. You seem perfectly lovely. I’m appalled to hear the men of Midgard are falling short.”

Loki then smiled. “But to that end, I want you to relax. Don’t think about tomorrow. Don’t even think about the morning.”

I moaned harder as he rotated his fingers slowly without withdrawing them. “I want you to think only of now, of my fingers in your succulent little cunt, and how good it’s going to feel when I make you come.”

His smile widened and darkened as he started thrusting them inside me again. “That’s it. Good girl. Relax for your Loki. Just let it take you.”

“L-Loki,” I mumbled, flustered by the dirty talk, which he immediately noticed.

“Oh, how darling!” he chuckled. “You blush when I behave lewdly. Is that an indication that you prefer to hear my silvery tongue?”

“Loki,” I whined louder, which just made him snicker even more. “Stop it!”

“You don’t mean one word of that protest,” he mused, speeding up his fingers again to make me moan. “Admit it, my sweet bar maiden. You love the idea of coming to the sound of my voice.”

“Dammit, Loki, no, I don’t!” I protested, unable to help rocking my hips down against his hand as he pressed into me deeper, harder, riding my body. I was close, so very close, close to an incredible fucking orgasm, and it was killing me I felt this damn good because of an alien Viking.

Loki tutted and stood upright, changing the angle of his fingers and eliciting a sharp cry from me. I grabbed him around the neck as he shifted to slide his middle and first finger deep inside me, his lips mated to mine like he’d never stop kissing me. “There we go. Mm, good girl, yes, that’s it, clench on my fingers just like that, fuck, pet, that’s good…”

“Mm, oh God, Loki, please, I’m…mm…I’m gonna…”

“You’re going to what?” he whispered, his lips curling at the corner into an insidious smirk.

“Loki, please…”

“It’s alright, love,” he cooed. “Tell me. Just say it. It’s only you and me here, darling. You need not be shy.”

I blushed deeply. “I’m gonna come, Loki.”

“Yes,” he purred against my lips. “Yes, you are, my lovely little bar maiden. Spread those legs for me. Let Loki take you to paradise.”

I shivered hard, easing my thighs open further, and it was just enough for him to finally set me off. He shoved his fingers deep at the right angle and I screamed his name, coming that very second. He let out a ragged groan as he felt my inner walls twitching around the slender digits and didn’t stop, fucking me through this orgasm and into a second a moment later. I clutched him desperately and moaned through the sweltering, heavenly sensations, covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time the wondrous climax abated.

“I quite enjoyed that.” Loki kissed me. “Are you alright?”

“You bloody know I’m alright,” I said, and he just laughed as he slid his fingers free.

“Can’t be too careful.” I then blushed harder when he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean right in front of me, his brilliant blue-green eyes laughing at me the whole time.

“Careful’s not really a word I know much about. Case in point…” I spun around on the bar top and then lay upside down, level with the demigod’s wet cock.

“You are under no obligation—”

“Loki?”

“Yes, dear?”

I smiled at him from upside down. “Shut up and shove your cock down my throat already.”

The Norse god chuckled. “As my lady wishes.”

He didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t easy—seriously, the man’s cock was in a league of its own in terms of size—but I managed. His cock disappeared down my throat. My eyes watered, but I held steady. The groan that escaped him when he was in to the hilt would never leave me; a deeply arousing wolf’s growl of anticipation. He also didn’t want me neglected, so he leaned over enough to slide that troublesome tongue inside my sopping cunt like it belonged there.

And then he fucked my mouth like an utter fiend.

And I loved every second of it.

In no time at all, I could feel myself moaning in warning of another climax, both from his incredible ministrations below the waist, but the sensation of taking that big cock down my throat. I could feel the next orgasm welling up like hot coffee in a mug, threatening to spill over. I sucked harder and he grunted, pulling back and thrusting even harder down my throat.

“Oh, my little minx,” Loki growled, his eyes locked on my supine form, sweat glistening on his brow. “The things you do to me…”

His head rolled back on his neck, his eyes falling shut, as he gripped my throat with his free hand and then thrust hard three final times. He came that very instant and then slotted his fingers inside me at the same time, setting me off as well. His cock twitched as it emptied into my throat, but didn’t soften when he was finally done, like I’d suspected. I had a feeling gods had increased stamina. I was counting on it, in fact.

“Such a little temptress,” Loki said as he helped me sit up and turn around to face him. “Tis a shame to hear the men of your world simply cannot keep up with you.”

He wrapped my legs around him, rubbing his hard cock against my lower belly. “How fitting instead that you’ve found your way to a god. Perhaps it’s fate.”

I chuckled. “Perhaps.”

I reached for the black mead and took a pull off the bottle, then offered it to Loki. He did the same. Then he kissed me, holding it for a long moment to make me breathless. He smiled with our lips touching. “Nectar of the gods indeed.”

I blushed like a fool yet again. “Dammit, Loki!”

The Norse god chuckled softly. “Need I protection?”

I shook my head. “Had my tubes tied ages ago.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, lowering his lashes over his sea-green eyes. “Had hoped to take you as the gods intended.”

I stifled giggles. “Loki of Asgard: stone cold freak.”

He winked. “I regret nothing.”

Loki kissed me slowly, deeply, as he eased that enormous cock inside me. He tasted the shuddering moan that left my lips as he parted my slick walls an inch at a time, not stopping until his pelvis dug into mine. I squirmed at the sensation of being so full from this upward angle and took deep breaths to try and not come on that first stroke. Pleasure bled through me until I was completely consumed, restless and hyper and drunk with bliss.

And that was before the crafty bastard even moved.

He stroked up and down my naked spine as he slowly pulled out, chasing after my lips and catching them over and over. He always moved with purpose. Each thrust had me clinging to his shoulders and squeezing those narrow hips with my thighs as he fucked me steadily. Nirvana flowed through me in an endless push and pull of our joined bodies. It was the most erotic moment of my entire life.

“You’re holding back,” the demigod whispered, watching me from under his lashes. “You needn’t do that with me, love.”

“S-Sorry, it’s just…” I shivered again as my breasts brushed his hot, smooth pectorals. “Feels really…good. I’ve never…felt this…good before…”

“And you want to savor it,” he finished for me. “I understand. But I don’t want you to measure your control. I want you to lose it entirely.”

I bit my bottom lip, my voice a bit shy. “I…never have before.”

Loki smiled fondly. “Now is a good time to start, pet.”

He shifted me in his arms so I tilted back further and then hauled my legs onto his shoulders again. My head flew back as he rammed into me with his full strength. “Loki!”

“Yes, darling, that’s it,” he purred as he immediately fucked into me at that same breakneck pace. “Good girl. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Feel me here. Feel me inside this delectable little quim. You know you want to come, my sweet little bar maiden. You’re aching for it, aren’t you?”

He licked my lips apart and kissed me as he rammed into me harder and harder, tasting my desperate cries of passion. “Yes! Yes, Loki, don’t stop, please, please fuck me, don’t stop!”

He groaned raggedly as he felt my inner walls flickering around his cock in warning. “Mm, you’re so close, my love. Just take it. Take your prize. Come for me.”

“Loki!” I seized him and kissed him hard as I finally surrendered. The orgasm dragged me down into its clutches and stole my breath, leaving me a shaking mess by the time it finished roaring through my body. I ended up in a limp heap on the bar top, the ceiling spinning as I slid into the afterglow.

Loki let me convalesce for a moment, then surprised me by quickly conjuring a little black fur wrap since I was indeed naked in the open area of my bar. It warmed my nape and shoulders, but still left my curves on display for his enjoyment. He kissed the inside of my left knee, his smirk smug yet satisfied. “That was heavenly.”

I laughed hoarsely. “Nice pun, God of Mischief. Yes, it certainly was, but…”

I then wiggled my dangling legs on his shoulders. “…what about you?”

“I’m a god,” he said frankly. “We have a considerable dearth of restraint, I’m afraid. But rest assured that I was having a lovely time.”

He then sent me a steamy look while jutting his hips forward just a bit while still hard inside me. “And I’d like that lovely time to continue, if it’s alright with milady.”

I sat up and kissed him, sighing wistfully. “More than okay with this milady.”

“Good.” I yipped as he tugged me off the top of the bar and turned me around, burying his face in my hair with a sigh as he encircled me in those condor arms of his. “I wish for a little more debauchery before I bring you home and finish what I’ve started. I do so love your décor, you know. You have impeccable taste.”

I giggled as I flattened my hands to the bar and nudged his cock with my ass. “I’m glad you approve, Silvertongue. Any chance I can add one of your daggers to my collection?”

“Most certainly. You did win our drinking game fair and square.” He took another swig of the black mead, passing the bottle to me for one as well, and then cupped my breasts beneath the fur wrap. I moaned as he rubbed himself along the seam of my ass as he fondled and teased my nipples. I loved that huge, muscular body pressed down my back, dwarfing me in size so easily. Loki was larger than life and I wanted to enjoy every second of him, for I had not a clue if I ever would again.

My toes curled in my heels as he delved inside me again, this time sliding a hand down to lightly circle my clit in between thrusts. He used my hips as a handle to pull me down onto his cock and painted the side of my throat with kiss marks. My arms nearly collapsed as he sped up until the slap of wet skin on skin was all I could hear over my own moans. “F-Fuck, Loki, please, won’t…last much…longer.”

“Don’t last at all,” he whispered in my ear, rolling his hips to make me cry out again. “Surrender, my darling pet. Come for me again.”

“Come with me,” I begged, just barely clinging to the last bit of my self-control. “Please come inside me, my prince.”

Loki outright roared in my ear and fucked into me with tremendous strength and agility, pounding my cunt into submission until I screamed his name and came messily on his cock. Then, mercifully, he joined me in my triumph. My knees nearly gave out as he came inside me hard, pumping over and over until he’d made a mess of my inner thighs. “Yes! Yes, yes, don’t stop, ooh, right there—”

He slapped my ass and then let out a guttural noise as he slowed a thrust at a time, eventually slumping on top of me on top of the bar. It was whole minutes before either person quit panting from the exertion. I felt limp, liquid, and high as a kite. It was by far the best afterglow I’d ever experienced.

“Tell me, pet,” Loki said absently, lightly stroking my sides where he embraced me. “Do you have a post-amazing-sex mead?”

I laughed heartily. “I do, actually.”

“Wonderful.” He kissed me, then let me go enough to use his magic to turn the fur wrap into an actual fur coat, covering me from my collarbones to my heels. I then went over to the tap and filled two mugs. “This one is a rhodomel, so it’s made with roses. Nice and summery and romantic, good for a post-fuck drink.”

“You have such an eye for mead,” he said warmly, clinking his mug with mine before taking a sip. His eyes shut and he hummed. “That’s delicious. I swear, I stand in the halls of Asgard herself when I drink your mead, pet. You truly have a gift.”

I blushed even harder than I had all evening. “Thank you. It means the world to me that an actual Norse god likes my mead.”

“Oh, the mead’s not the true appeal of The Honey Trap,” he teased as he slipped his arms beneath the coat to hold me against him. “The real reason you named this place the Honey Trap is because no man can be in your presence and ever escape it, for you are sweeter than any honey and more precious than any mead.”

“Loki,” I whined, and he just laughed. “But really, thank you. For tonight. And…everything. I haven’t had this good a time in a long while and it was badly needed.”

“It was my absolute pleasure. Life is hard. We must take our time in the oasis whenever it comes along.”

The Norse god then winked before finishing my mead. “So drink up and be merry, my sweet little bar maiden.”

FIN

Chapter Text

And I told the boys me story

And we had another round

Well, we’ll drink and drink and drink and drink and fight

We’ll drink and drink and drink and drink and fight

And if I see a pretty girl, I’ll sleep with her tonight

Yes, I’ll drink and drink and drink and drink and fight!

-“Irish Drinking Song” by Buck O’Nine

So a demigod walks into a meadery.

Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it?

But honest to Odin, I was behind the bar finishing up with one of my regulars when the doors to The Honey Trap meadery opened and spilled in sunlight and the most handsome, brawny man I’d ever laid eyes on.

It was a moment not unlike those famous spaghetti westerns when the mysterious stranger walked into the seedy saloon and the music stopped and the grizzled patrons all turned to stare. This time, though, it wasn’t hostility, but shock. After all, it wasn’t every day that a fucking alien god king walked into a New York meadery. He wasn’t dressed in his iconic Asgardian leathers, though; he wore a black V-neck t-shirt that conformed lovingly to his ripped chest and cobblestone abs, light wash jeans, boots, and a jean sheepskin jacket over the ensemble. His normally long blond locks had been lopped off, leaving honey-blond shorter but thick hair. His one blue eye sparkled with good humor as he strode towards my bar with a charming grin on his lips.

“Góðan aptan,” Thor, God of Thunder, King of Asgard, said to me with a friendly, boisterously deep voice. “I am looking for the owner of this great meadery, my dear. Would you be able to help me find her?”

“Sure thing, big guy,” I said as I finished pouring from the tap and handed the client the drink. I then did a little silly 360 degree turn and then bowed. “Voila! The owner is now in attendance, your highness.”

Thor laughed; a warm, rich sound like a ribbon of homemade caramel in my ears. “A sense of humor, eh? Good to hear. I am Thor, son of Odin, and I’ve heard tell of your incredible mead-making skills. I was wondering if I might trouble you for a mug or two.”

“Or two,” I chuckled. “Like a Viking god's only going to have a mug or two. You’ll drink me out of house and home, God of Thunder. Your reputation precedes you.”

He chuckled, holding up his hands in supplication. “Aye, I will not deny it. My exploits are well-documented, after all. Still, I’d love to try Midgardian mead. I want to see how it compares to ours back home. Well. When we still had one.”

I offered a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I heard. I’m terribly sorry, your majesty.”

“It’s alright,” he said with a soft smile. “And thank you. My people will survive and that’s what is important, but I love seeing that aspects of our culture are still practiced here on Midgard.”

“Hey, everyone likes a bit of nostalgia every now and then. Be my guest. Why don’t you tell me what kind you fancy the most?”

The god king rubbed his neatly trimmed beard as he perused the menu. We had a laminated printout with little drawn examples of each type of mead. “Hmm…let’s give the Viking Blood a go as our first.”

“An excellent choice,” I mused as I went over to the appropriate tap. This mead was made with cherries, so it’d be one of the sweeter of our inventory. Thor thanked me when I handed him the glass—perfect manners for a god king—and then took a deep sip. He sighed and shut his eye, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s wonderful. You have come highly recommended for a reason, milady.”

I couldn’t help giggling as he called me that in his velvety voice. “Thank you. I’m very glad you like it. It’s not every day our idols come along with a compliment.”

“Oh, it’s well-earned,” he said after another mouthful. “It’s by far the most delicious mead I’ve had in ages. ‘Tis a lost art, after all. How did you come to decide to open a meadery?”

“My mom,” I confessed. “She was a bartender, so I grew up in her bar. Loved it to death. Then as I got my business degree, I thought about what I felt the area was missing and thought about how I’ve always enjoyed mead, so I decided to open a meadery.”

“Oh, how lovely. I love seeing traditions passed down through families, especially this kind.” He finished the mug and then offered it to me. “Now I want you to pick one for me.”

“You trust my judgment?” I touched my chest and widened my eyes. “Why, how forward, your majesty. We’ve only just met.”

He grinned. “Aye, ‘tis a risk, but a fun one, milady.”

I chuckled and perused the meads before deciding on which flavor. “Alright, but I want you to guess which one it is.”

“Ooh, intriguing indeed. Let’s give it a shot.” He accepted the mug when I passed it back and took a deep sip. He paused, frowning in concentration. Some of the other nosy bar patrons watched with apt attention as the demigod deliberated. “I taste…red grapes…juniper…and saffron, which makes this one a dandaghare, right?”

I slow clapped. “Very good, God of Thunder. An excellent palate, I see.”

He actually blushed a little, to my delight. “Thank you. I can’t wait to bring Valkyrie along; she’ll love this place and you.”

“You are so welcome to bring the other Asgardians. I’d love the free publicity. Actually, if you’d like, we’re having an event this evening that you might enjoy.”

He leaned an elbow on the bar, waggling his eyebrows. “Do tell.”

“We’re doing axe-throwing tonight around eight o’clock. The person with the most points gets a free bottle of any mead of their choice, any size. Sound like your kind of fun, your highness?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said with an eager grin. “I haven’t thrown axes for fun in ages, so this ought to be a night of great fun. Thank you kindly for the invite, milady. Is there any way I can repay your kindness?”

“Just showing up is enough, trust me,” I said with a chuckle as I gestured to the bar patrons snapping pics of him. “I’m honored to meet an alien god king. Definitely not something that was on my Bucket List, but it’s a welcome new addition.”

Thor cocked his head slightly. “Bucket List?”

“Oh, that’s a Midgardian thing. We sometimes make a mental or physical list of things we want to do before we die, and sometimes dying is referred to as kicking the bucket, hence, the Bucket List.”

“Ah, I see. Clever. Perhaps I should come up with one.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Boy, that’d be a pretty long one if you did. I read you’re either completely immortal or you live five-thousand years, give or take.”

“I’m not a true immortal, no,” he said casually before finishing the glass. “I can be killed; it’s just bloody difficult to accomplish, as I’m sure Loki would tell you, to his consternation.”

“Yeah, I heard you had quite the challenging childhood with him for a brother.”

Thor smirked. “Well, if nothing else, it made me tough and taught me not to turn my back on any one person for too long. A hard lesson to learn, but a necessary one for a warrior. Just, you know, not a good lesson for my poor kidneys and all.”

I chuckled again. “Them’s the breaks when your brother is the God of Mischief. My condolences.”

“I’ve boxed his ears a number of times for it, so at least he doesn’t go unchallenged.” He then smiled wider. “If you would permit me, may I venture to guess your favorite flavor?”

“Mm,” I tapped my chin with a finger, pretending to think. “I mean, you do have an unfair advantage of being a thousand years old. It might be too easy for you.”

“Ah, then let’s make it even harder. Top three meads. If I get a single one wrong, I’ll buy the entire stock.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh my. You don’t have to make the stakes quite that high.”

Thor shrugged a broad shoulder. “A king needs to rise to the occasion, doesn’t he?”

I shook my head, smiling. “Alright, have it your way. What’s the prize if you win?”

Thor’s smirk widened. “You allow me to buy you a drink to share with me before I depart.”

The bar patrons all teased me, going, “Ooooh” flirtatiously, to which I promptly flipped them off and they all laughed. I watched the God of Thunder from under my lashes with a cool look, my arms crossed, pretending to be a glacier when inside, I was doing the Kermit flail. Wasn’t every damn day a perfect ten walked in the door and wanted to buy me a drink. I had to play it cool or I’d throw him on top of the bar and suck his dick here and now, public decency be damned.

“Alright,” I said finally, gesturing to him. “Go on, your highness. My top three meads, let’s hear them.”

Thor clasped his hands and squinted at the menu, reading every variety. I could see the cogs turning in his head as he considered them. “Let’s see…we know that you are motivated. You have a good sense of humor and you like a challenge. Your mead flavors are quite meticulous, so you have superior attention to detail. My first guess is the mangata of the melomel flavors.”

“Blueberry and raspberry,” I confirmed. “Very good, God of Thunder. Next?”

The demigod glanced about the bar, taking in the décor. “You also have an eye for historical artifacts and antiquities. Your mead pricing is fair and affordable. My second guess is the honey mint from the metheglin meads.”

“Ooh, I expected you to slip up on that one,” I mused. “Again, well done. Last pick. No pressure.”

“None at all.” Thor stroked his beard. “You are also bold and flirtatious, but still demure and a lady. My final guess shall be…the blood orange sour mead.”

Tense silence proceeded. We locked eyes in a staring contest, smiling equally, until finally, I curtsied as the other bar patrons cheered in celebration. “It appears that you may now buy me a drink, your highness.”

“Splendid!” Thor reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather nice leather wallet. “A glass of the blood orange sour for you and one for me as well.”

Thor then paused, shrugged, and peeled off two hundreds. “Actually, let’s get another round for everyone here.”

They loved that and cheered even harder, clapping him on the back and taking selfies with him. I laughed the whole while and served everyone a fresh round of their mead of choice before returning to my post with the alien god king.

I took the bills he offered and then poured us each a mug of the blood orange sour mead. It was a favorite of mine for its many unique flavors combined into one. He truly had a gift, as I hadn’t needed to lie at all—he’d gotten all three choices right on his first try. I found that quite impressive, which was saying something. “I do take slight issue with your accusation, though, sire.”

“Do you now? Have I offended your honor, my sweet bar maiden?”

“You did call me flirtatious,” I said. “I see no evidence of that yet. Perhaps you’ve misconstrued my friendly bartender nature as romantic attentions.”

“If I have done so, I beg your pardon, milady,” he said, bowing deeply at the waist. He offered his hand. I took it and he kissed it, which just made me blush like an idiot and giggle before I could help it. His lips were soft and his beard tickled pleasantly against my skin. He held eye contact as he did so, which just made me blush even harder.

“I do hope that if you choose to flirt with me, I will not misconstrue it,” he confessed with that same easy, teasing smirk as he passed me the empty mug at last.

“Oh, believe me, God of Thunder,” I said with a wink. “You won’t.”

Thor laughed warmly again. “Very well, milady. I bid you adieu. I shall see you this evening.”

“Thanks for stopping by, your majesty. Catch you then.”

And with that, the God of Thunder left my meadery, soon to return.

As Thor was not a subtle demigod, I was not a subtle woman.

I decided that if I really was going to throw caution to the wind and try to bang a god, I’d better look the part. I took off an hour early to prepare by taking a long, luxurious bubble bath and then sitting down to moisturize every square inch of me. I did my hair and makeup, then threw on a scarlet halter-style cocktail dress and a pair of comfortable black heels, pairing it with rose and beaded jewelry. It had the sides cut out to give a slice of my newly moisturized skin and had a seductive neckline as well. I finished the look with crimson fuck-me lipstick and then grabbed my bolero jacket before heading for the car.

The axe-throwing was among the monthly activities I threw for my bar patrons. Most mead drinkers were fans of Viking culture in general, either casually or as a hobby, so I made sure to include fun activities related to the meadery. It drove business and just made the bar so much more enjoyable for my patrons and employees alike.

Tonight would be a full house, so me and my six employees plus the bar patrons, which usually meant we’d max out at about fifteen to twenty people. We always cleared the tables away and then set up the targets on the far wall towards the back of my bar where the games like ping pong, foosball, and the arcade games sat. The company I used was always friendly and punctual, giving everyone a little safety chat before we all got started on the competition.

And to my delight, the God of Thunder was a punctual demigod.

He came right as we finished setting up to uproarious cheering, as some of the folks who had been in when he first came returned for the axe-throwing, and who could blame them? He was a total good sport and took another round of selfies with all who were interested. I was serving double duty as host and bartender, freshening up drinks as we prepared the tournament. Thor found me once he’d greeted everyone and kissed my hand again, making me flustered like a little schoolgirl. “Good evening, milady. You look ravishing.”

“Thank you, your highness,” I said, nodding to him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He wore a burgundy t-shirt, dark jeans, brown boots, and a brown suede jacket that still emphasized those broad shoulders. “Thank you. Are you going to join in on the festivities?”

“Oh, no, I opt out most of the time.”

He cocked his head. “Really? Why is that?”

I chuckled. “Um, I’m really good at it. Like super good. The reason I host this every month is I’ve been doing it since I was about fifteen, so I don’t compete because it’s not fair to everyone else.”

Thor grinned. “Truly? Please tell me you’re willing to at least demonstrate for me.”

I pretended to think about. “Hmm…I don’t know. I might need to be persuaded.”

Thor laughed and got a fifty out of his wallet. “A glass of acerglyn for you and me, please.”

“Good choice.” I took the bill and then poured us both mugs, gesturing towards the area where everyone had started to compete. The God of Thunder actually offered me his arm and I just beamed at the gesture, accepting it as we went over. Johnny, the instructor, was a tall, thin fellow with short dark hair and a goatee. He was charismatic as hell, always telling jokes and showing everyone tricks with the axes like juggling. Everyone got three chances to throw. The closest to the bullseye for all three would be awarded the most points.

We let everyone go ahead of us and Johnny tallied it up for the winner, and I gift-wrapped their choice of mead before introducing the God of Thunder to the rest of the party. “Obviously, a thousand-year-old Viking god would soundly trounce the lot of us, so he’s not competing, but he is going to show off for us because why not?”

They all cheered. Thor chuckled and set his mug aside in the wake of the applause as he stepped forward. “Thank you, thank you, you’re all too kind. I suppose we can start with some tricks, yes?”

The bar patrons cheered again. Johnny passed Thor the first two axes. He swung them a bit in his large hand, testing the weight and the craftmanship. Johnny opted for short, lightweight axes for the competition, so I was sure they weighed nothing to a god. Thor eyed the distance between the target and himself, then backed up to the complete opposite side of the bar. Mind you, that was a distance of twenty feet minimum. “Let’s see if I’m still rusty.”

Thor lined himself up to the target and then threw the first axe. It sliced through the air in a perfect rotation and hit dead center. He threw the second and it landed right next to the first an inch apart, perfectly parallel. We cheered and he retrieved them, then performed a perfect backward underhand throw. He made everyone crack up as he also did what was sometimes called the golf swing, which was pretending like the axe was a golf club, but still swinging it to hit a bullseye. Lastly, he impressed us with a half-rotation throw, which took quite a bit of skill.

And as the last of the applause fell away, I heard just one person towards the back of the crowd still slow-clapping after everyone finished. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

I froze as I recognized that cigarette-ruined voice. A scraggly man with long, dirty-blond hair under a bandana pushed his way from the back of the crowd, flanked by four red-faced drunk bikers dressed in Hell’s Angel jackets, same as him. Notable, of course, for the Nazi flag sewn into their shoulders too.

Jacob “Chains” Forktree eyed Thor and then smirked. “Look, everybody! It’s the God of Thunder himself, Thor! Coming down from on high to grace us sinners with his heavenly presence. Brother, it is truly an honor to meet you.”

Thor eyed him right back, having seen my livid expression already. “Charmed, I’m sure. And just who might you be?”

“They call me Chains.”

Thor smirked. “What’s the matter? Can’t get them to stop?”

A few people made the mistake of snickering at the comeback. Chains’ jaw twitched, but the smile didn’t move. “Cute. Very cute. That’s what I hear about you gods.”

He took a pack of cigs out of his pocket and lit one, finally fixing me with his filthy gaze. “Been a while, beautiful. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you clean up this good. The God of Thunder must be mighty good company.”

“Better than yours,” I sneered. “This is private property. You’re under a lifetime ban from my bar as well as a restraining order, so why don’t you take your sorry ass out of my bar before I call your parole officer?”

Chains’ ugly smile stretched, revealing those tobacco stained teeth. “Oh no! If I don’t make tracks, Mommy’s gonna tattle on me!”

His thugs laughed at that. I rolled my eyes. Chains continued. “Besides, what’s the matter? I just wanted to compete, after all.”

“You think I’m gonna let you anywhere near something sharp after what you’ve done?” I snapped. “Take a fucking hike, you scum-sucking warthog.”

He clucked his tongue. “Now, that’s not very nice language for a lady, is it?”

Thor stepped up behind me. His presence made a shadow sweep over us. His voice remained entirely calm, but I could hear anger brimming beneath it. “Gentlemen, this young woman has asked you to depart from her property twice now. There will not be a third time.”

“Izzat ‘s’posed to scare us?” Chains challenged. “You ain’t no Viking, sunshine. You’re just a monkey in a cape, performing to keep us happy. You lift one finger and you’ll have the whole damn country on your ass to kick you back to the fruity little planet you came from.”

THUNK!

One of the axes in Thor’s hand landed a scant inch from Chain’s right steel-toed boot. He didn’t flinch, but everyone else did.

“Oops,” Thor deadpanned, staring dead-eyed at Chains as if he’d turn into a werewolf this very moment and rip his throat out. “My hand slipped.”

Chains laughed.

Then he backhanded Thor.

“Oops,” the older man sneered. “My hand slipped.”

Thor cracked his neck and rolled one shoulder, his smirk widening. “I do not appreciate you wasting milady’s time, so why don’t we settle this like gentlemen?”

“Ain’t none of them here, but alright. What ya got, sunshine?”

Thor gestured to the target with his axe. “Blindfold. Best three shots. If you win, she lifts the ban and I will leave here right here, right now, never to return. If she wins, you buy every single mead she has on tap and never set foot in this establishment again.”

Chains arched an eyebrow. “If she wins? You really think this sorry piece of ass can beat me at axe-throwing?”

Thor smiled petulantly. “I guarantee it.”

He then leaned in and every bit of light fled from his face. “And if you insult her one more time in my presence, I will rip you asunder.”

Chains snorted, taking a long pull on the cig as he peered up at the god through the smoke. He then smiled and tossed the cig at Thor’s boots. “Alright, sunshine. You’re on.”

Thor glanced at me first. “Milady?”

“Yes,” I said, barely containing my fury. “Fine with me.”

He and I stepped away as I went to get two clean dish towels from the back for the blindfolds. Once we were alone in the supply closet, his expression softened completely. “I do hope you will forgive me overstepping. I thought it best to try and solve the issue without the authorities, as I know they have a tendency to make things much worse for business owners.”

“No, you made the right call,” I said with a sigh. “This won’t be the end of it, but at least it’ll make him tuck tail and lick his wounds for a while.”

“How long as this cur been bothering you?”

“Last six months. He came in when we did an axe-throwing competition, but he was drunk and his men were tearing up my bar when they didn’t win, so I had them kicked out and banned, then put a restraining order on him when he started harassing me. Now he tries to harass me whenever he finds out we’ve held another one. I’m starting to think about not having them anymore, but it’s not like it’d stop him.”

“I am so very sorry to hear the authorities aren’t protecting you as they should. I know we’ve just met, but I do hope you’ll consider my help if you need it.”

I touched his cheek. “You’re sweet. But you’re a king. You don’t have to worry about one little barmaid’s drama.”

“I do if she is a lovely lady for whom I am growing quite fond,” he said softly. He kissed my palm, then turned and opened the door to the supply closet. “After you, milady.”

I tried not to blush as I brushed past him. I tossed Chains the dish towel once we were back by the target and he tied his blindfold on, indicating he would go first. After all, wouldn’t expect a scumbag to consider ladies first, now would we?

“On the count of three,” Thor said. “One…two…three!”

Chains threw the first axe. It hit dead center. He threw the next. It hit the outer ring to the right. He threw the third one. It hit an inch above dead center. He took off the blindfold and let out another cigarette-choked laugh, shaking his head. “Love to see you beat that.”

I took his spot. Thor took the dish towel and neatly folded it, then tied it for me.

He then tipped my chin up and kissed me very gently. I nearly swooned. It was just a soft, subtle press of his lips to mine, yet warm pleasure flooded down my body. “For luck.”

I giggled. “Much obliged, your highness.”

He stepped away. I thought about it for a second.

And then turned around.

Murmurs rose in the crowd. I would’ve paid good money to see Chains’ idiotic face right now. He’d probably rolled his eyes. I lifted the first axe, then concentrated and visualized.

"On the count of three," Thor said, his voice clearly both amused and impressed. "One...two...three!" 

I threw all three in rapid succession over my shoulder, the way I’d been doing it since I was a teenager. Dead silence. I lifted my blindfold and turned around.

All three axes were in a perfect row, dead center.

The bar then exploded with applause.

Chains looked like he’d swallowed a gallon of lemon juice after someone shoved a pineapple up his ass. I simply smiled sweetly and took out my phone, tallying up the mead on tap. “That’ll be three-hundred and seventy-five dollars, please.”

Seething, he ripped open his wallet and flung a fat, rubber-banded stack of bills at my feet. Thor saw and didn’t like it one bit. He picked it up and gave it to me, then sent a menacing smirk in his direction. “Now shake hands like a good little boy and get out of her bar forever.”

Chains’ face got even redder. He stood there, looking at me with my hand outstretched, fuming like Yosemite Sam in his heyday. He looked down at my hand and forced himself to step forward to accept it. He reached for my hand.

And at the last second, he grabbed a nearby patron’s mug of mead and dumped it down the front of my dress in front of everyone.

“There,” he spat. “Cool off, bitch.”

Silence. I could only hear my own breathing and the sound of the mead dripping from my dress.

“For the record,” I said so everyone could hear me as I took off my earrings and rings. “I just want it known that I tried to resolve this peacefully.”

I turned around and punched the living shit out of Chains.

He stumbled back into his gorilla-sized henchmen with a broken nose, gaping at me in total shock. I raised my bloody fingers and waved, grinning maniacally. “Let’s. Fucking. Go. Bitch.”

And from there, a bar fight erupted.

One worthy of Roadhouse, for Christ’s sake.

And I was no stranger to that, either. Wasn’t always a bar maiden, you see.

Some of the bar patrons had the sense to leave, but my employees and I pretty much cleaned house with Thor’s help. I battered Chains while Thor took turns walloping his flunkies until we’d kicked enough ass wholesale that they recognized they wouldn’t win.

In the end, Thor picked Chains up off the floor and dragged him to the door by his collar. He then suspended the shorter man at least two feet off the ground, bloodied and beaten, calm as ever. “Are we going to have to have this conversation again, little man?”

Chains wouldn’t talk. Thor shook him. “Okay, fuck, fine! I won’t come back, alright?”

“Very good, you pitiful fool. Get permanently lost.” He tossed him into his flunkies and then turned on his heel, marching back inside with me.

“What a night!” Stan laughed as he handed Patrick a Ziploc bag of ice for his black eye. “Oh, man. We haven’t had a brawl since…what? New Years?”

I chuckled and slid the First Aid kit over to him from under the bar. “Yeah, around there sounds right. You good?”

“Oh, please, those bums couldn’t even fight,” he scoffed. “Just some bruises and little cuts is all. You’ve got it worse with that sliced up hand. Go on home; we’ll get this place back to normal before we leave.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, frowning. “I mean, it is technically my fault.”

“Dude was more than asking for it and it was more than overdue. Nah. Get fixed up, boss. We gotchu.”

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you having my back. We’re doing a half-day tomorrow, but paid. My show of thanks.”

They all cheered. I shook my head, chuckling, and then turned to my hero. “You’re pretty banged up too, so would you be alright if I took you back to my place to get some of these scrapes looked at?”

“Not at all. I was going to insist you let me tend to you, especially that hand.”

I winced. He wasn’t exaggerating—it hurt like a bitch to break someone’s nose, after all. “Yeah. Better safe than sorry. Come on.”

Then I took the God of Thunder home with me.

God, my life is insane.

Chapter Text

Although, the night before you were in my home, my body, my dome

In a circle of passion, we…Paris, Italy, Japan, Africa, Rome

We made music

We tromboned

It was magic, the way it happened

Pure electricity

I felt so inspired and afraid at the same time

I don’t know whether to sing or do rhyme!

Call me

Honey molasses

Ebony majesty

Chocolate brown sugar

Sweet epiphany…

-“Honey Molasses” by Jill Scott

Home was a modest one-bedroom apartment nowhere near the bar that was rent-controlled, so I hadn’t been yeeted on my ass on account of a sky high rent just yet. I wasn’t about to subject the God of Thunder to the subway, so we took an Uber. The driver lost his mind with excitement, chatting up the demigod about the bar fight and I barely suppressed laughter the whole time.

“Welcome to the castle,” I announced after unlocking the door to my apartment. “Please make yourself at home.”

“Thank you kindly, milady.” He grinned as he saw my little orange idiot trotting towards him with a curious meow. “And who is your friend?”

“Leif,” I supplied, amused as my cat wound around the demigod’s ankles. “As you can see, he’s almost as shameless as his owner.”

“Yes,” Thor said, his single eye twinkling with mischief as he rubbed under Leif’s chin. “Almost.”

 I scowled. “Hey, hey. Any more insults and you don’t get more mead, mister.”

“I’m merely teasing you. Which way to the bathroom so we can get cleaned up?”

“Follow me.” I led him down the hallway and then offered him my First Aid kit. I hopped up on the counter after rinsing the dried blood off my hands while Thor prepared the gauze and disinfectant. Leif jumped on the bathroom counter and plopped beside me, purring and kneading his paws into the side of my thigh as I petted him.

“I could tell from how you handled yourself that it wasn’t your first bar fight. You have a warrior’s spirit, you know.”

I snorted. “I do not. I’m just a stubborn jackass that’s too stupid to back down from a fight.”

“I don’t think that at all,” he said as he came close, gently taking my hand and slowly beginning to disinfect the cuts over my knuckles. It hurt like hell. I clutched the countertop and gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, hissing as the sharp pain crackled up my arm. “That was a truly odious man, especially sporting genocidal imagery of all things. Cowards like that only understand violence, and it has its use, I’ve found, with men such as those. Some men need to be taught and reasoned with, but others simply need the fear of God put in them.”

I chuckled. “True. I imagine you’d know the difference with a thousand years of life under your belt. You wiped the floor with them no problem. It was frankly impressive.”

“I consider today a complete success,” he said cheerfully as he started to carefully bandage my hand. “I met a beautiful woman, had some delicious mead, and beat the living hell out of some scallywags.”

“Stop it, you,” I fussed, blushing. “I swear, were you born this charming or do you practice it?”

The demigod chuckled as he moved on to the cut on the back of my right elbow. “It’s natural, I’m afraid. You must have a thousand questions, I imagine.”

“Oh, more, trust me. I mean, what the hell is it like? You’re all-powerful and educated and obviously charismatic. Why isn’t there a Queen of Asgard with all that going on?”

“A valid question indeed,” he said as he carefully cleaned my elbow wound. “I suppose it’s just my own worry about my ability to holding together a marriage? I have of course been in romantic relationships long-term, but given my chaotic lifestyle, it’s often easiest and less messy to stick to the occasional dalliance.”

My gaze softened on him. “I see. And I’m sure you’re still stinging a bit from losing Jane.”

“Aye, it was difficult losing her. Perhaps I’m a bit reticent to risk my heart again.”

“So kings do get scared?”

Thor smiled at me. “All the time, milady.”

“Wow,” I murmured. “I didn’t expect a king to be so honest.”

“Something I learned from my mother,” he admitted before leaning down to clean the cut over my left knee. It meant pulling up my dress, though not past my mid-thigh, but the brush of his calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin on my knee made me lightheaded with desire. I was trying to be good, but it was infinitely difficult with a handsome man tending to my wounds.

“What else did she teach you?” I asked, propping my leg up so he could treat the scrape on my shin.

“Patience, above all, though it was a hard and long lesson for me to learn. She always appreciated everyone regardless of their station on Asgard. She was a compassionate leader. Never made an enemy in the world, my mother.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“Yes, she was. I sense your mother was a lot like mine.”

I smiled. “Oh, she loved trouble, trust me, so probably. She had a mean left hook. I inherited it.”

“I saw,” he said, grinning. “That first punch was a thing of beauty.”

“Oh, you do go on,” I said, waving the comment away with a facetiously dismissive look. “Nothing any bartender wouldn’t have done.”

“True, but standing up to cowards is still worth celebrating.”

I pursed my lips. “Oh, admit it. You just want one more drink, mister.”

He tipped his head to me. “You know me too well, milady.”

I chuckled and hopped down since he was now done with me. “Alright, you’ve earned it.”

I went to my personal stash and poured two mugs of sima mead, which was enhanced with the taste of lemon and raisins. When I returned, he had sat on the counter and pulled off his jacket and shirt.

And I damn near dropped the glasses, because goddamn.

I remembered years ago when someone nonsensically said they wanted to “bake muffins” on the chest of a particularly hot actor, and Thor was no different. The broadness of his shoulders was simply a sight to behold, as if the statue of David should’ve been about him instead. His musculature was defined in tanned slopes of pleasing lines, his waist sporting that droolworthy upside-down L-shape so many fitness nuts went after. His biceps bulged as he cleaned the dried blood away from the cut along his left bicep, but by then, he’d noticed me in the doorway. I kicked myself for pausing to stare and handed him the mug, clinking it with mine. “Skål.”

“Skål,” he said, taking a sip with one hand and petting my needy cat with the other. “Mm, that’s fantastic. Sima?”

“Right again,” I said as I got to work on the cut on his bicep. “You really have a talent for that. Maybe we should do one of those blindfold taste tests and put it up on Instagram.”

“You are most welcome to exploit me for the gain of your meadery,” he teased, to which I laughed. “As long as the mead keeps flowing my way, I have not a problem with it.”

“I sensed as much.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And if there is even an inkling of the return of that weasel Chains, you will inform me at once?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not stupid enough to challenge a demigod a second time, but you have my word you’ll be informed if he tries to start more shit.”

“Very good. I’d be happy to reiterate my point. There is no call for men like that.”

“Admit it,” I teased as I smoothed the bandage in place. “You just want to impress me so you can come have free mead whenever you want. I mean, you did get awful sore when he called me a piece of ass.”

“I do want to impress you,” he said softly. “I can’t seem to help it.”

I almost gulped, speechless. His honesty was refreshing, yet alarming. I simply wasn’t used to a man so open. He cocked his head slightly. “Have I offended you?”

“No, no,” I said quickly, snapping out of it and then focusing on the scrape along his right side. “I just…I’m not used to being complimented by someone who actually means it. I mean, there are bar flies that come and flirt, but there’s never anything behind it. And…you seem like someone who only spends his time with a woman he cares about.”

“Tis my curse, I’m afraid. Loki mocks me for it constantly, that I fall in love too easily.”

“I don’t think it’s something to be mocked for. Love is rare. If you find it often, that’s a blessing in my eyes.”

He studied me, then gently brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “And…how often is it that milady has found love on her own?”

“Not often,” I whispered, my heart rate through the roof as he lightly ran his thumb along my lower lip, the gaze of his solitary blue eye glued to my mouth. God, I wanted him to kiss me, as stupid and selfish and insane as it sounded. I was definitely a moron reaching for the stars. He was a god king. A powerful Norse warrior. What the hell was I thinking, pretending I could be good enough for him?

“Milady?” Thor whispered.

“Yes, Thor?”

“May I kiss you?”

I shivered. “Yes, you may.”

He leaned in tantalizingly slow and kissed me as gently and sweetly as he had after tying my blindfold at the bar. The hot flood of pleasure rolled over me like a stifling wave. Wow. To know the kiss of a god not once, but twice. I was the luckiest bitch in the world.

And Jane Foster was a fucking lunatic for dumping this man.

“Thor?” I whispered with our lips still touching, my eyes half-lidded.

“Yes, milady?”

“Are you in the habit of fucking Midgardian bar maidens you just met that lowkey adore you?”

He paused, pretending to think about it. “Why, I believe I am, milady.”

“Baller.” I kissed him again, holding it for a long breath. “Now get off this counter and fuck my brains out.”

The God of Thunder slid off the counter with a wickedly wolfish grin and then scooped me up in those powerful arms. “As milady wishes.”

I giggled madly as he carried me to the bedroom, pausing long enough to shoo Leif into the den to protect his innocent kitty cat eyes. He tossed me on the bed as if I weighed as much as a loaf of bread to him and it just made me giggle harder, for I loved to be manhandled. He surged up my body quickly and buried a hand in my hair, lightly tugging my head back so he could reach. I kicked my heels off and let my legs fall completely open as his pelvis landed between them, the bulge in his jeans already arousing me to no end. I ran my fingers all along those powerful biceps and shoulders, stroking every bit of smooth, hot skin that I could find as the demigod kissed me senseless. He rocked against me in slow, purposeful thrusts, eating the soft sighs and moans from my lips as he pushed the hem of the dress up to bunch at my hips. He stroked down my outer thighs until his fingers hooked in my panties and then drew them off my legs to fall at the foot of the bed. I yanked his belt loose and unhooked his jeans, ready to dig for my prize, but the God of Thunder sat back on his haunches with a secretive smirk instead. “All in good time, milady.”

My brows shot up as Thor propped my legs on his shoulders, stroking them lovingly as he pressed scorching whiskered kisses into my inner right knee. “Ah, what, uh, what’re you doing, your highness?”

“It just so happens,” he murmured as he edged closer to The Danger Zone. “That I am quite a fan of cunnilingus. Are you, sweet lady?”

“Yes,” I squeaked, blushing clear up to my hairline. “B-But are you sure? That’s a very…generous thing for a god king to do.”

“I am not a god king in your bed, milady,” he reminded me. “I am just Thor, remember?”

I nodded too many times. “R-Right, um, okay, I’m ready and willing if you are.”

“Most certainly.” I had to remember to breathe with every hot kiss that landed on my sensitive inner thigh. I knew damn well I’d never keep my composure with the man of my dreams with his head between my legs, but I still wanted to have a tiny bit of self-control. He petted me as he zeroed in on the liquid space between my thighs, eventually reaching up enough to pull the top half of my dress down to cup my left breast through the bra.

“Thor!” I arched up from the bed as he ran his tongue along my slit from bottom to top, brushing the bra aside to gently caress my breast in time with his mouth. He swiped it over my clit as well and then circled it, pulling an agonized moan from my throat as the powerful curl of pleasure rolled through my lower body. Better still was the ragged groan that left him after the first taste, so gratified and arousing that it made me want to press my knees together.

“Mm,” the God of Thunder purred, the vibrations making me twitch and squirm. “You are just as sweet as your mead, milady.”

“Fuck,” I whimpered, already covered in a light sheen of sweat from the strain of not coming. “I-I can’t, Thor, it’s too good, I’ll come…”

“Relax,” he cooed softly as he dragged the upper half of my dress down and slid up enough to play with my bare breasts. His hand slid down my belly to between my legs, dipping two fingers inside me as he licked and sucked my nipples taut. I cried out as his fingers slipped into me, thick and long, shooting my pleasure to new heights.

“Ooh, Thor, please, I’m sensitive,” I whined, unable to help jutting my hips up for more friction against his steady thrusts inside my sopping cunt. “Mm, God, please, gonna come…”

“Yes, come, come, my lovely girl,” Thor purred in my ear, kissing down the side of my throat as his fingers picked up the pace. “Come on my fingers. Come for me, my sweet. You’re almost there. Just let go.”

I screamed as he released me, unable to help digging my nails into his sides as the wave of ecstasy swept me away and carried me off into euphoria. I keened as I flew through the climax at lightspeed, writhing on the bed until the God of Thunder had finished finger-fucking me to his heart's content. He gave me no reprieve, either; he then slid down my body and ran his tongue over my spot again.

“Ah! Thor, please, not there!”

“Mm, good girl, just one more,” he purred from between my legs, lightly stroking my clit with the side of his thumb just before fitting his talented tongue inside me. I arched up from the bed again and grabbed handfuls of his thick hair, my legs twisting as he quickly built me up again with hard, slow thrusts of his tongue.

“OhGodThorpleasefuckmepleasefuckmejustlikethat—yes!” I howled at the ceiling in a single breath as he tongue-fucked me into another orgasm in under a minute. He growled in satisfaction when he felt me go and didn’t let up, just slowed so he could then ease me into the afterglow. I melted into the bed—warm, pliant, and deliriously happy.

“You’re so cute,” the demigod rumbled when I finally roused from my sex coma, chuckling a bit when my heavy eyelids opened to see him above me on all fours. “Are you alright, my darling?”

“Stellar,” I said, then winced as I noticed my claw marks on his ribs. “Oh no, are you okay?”

“I’m far stronger than I look,” he promised, kissing my forehead. “The marks will be gone before we even go to sleep, I promise.”

“Good. Last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.” I then snorted and smirked. “Unless you’re into that shit.”

“Pain and pleasure are fun every once in a while,” he agreed as he finished unzipping his jeans, leaving him in plain black boxers. “But not tonight. I have far sweeter plans for milady.”

“As do I.” I pushed up from the bed and then gently moved him to my former spot on it. He relaxed into the pillows with his big hands resting on my knees as I straddled him. I pulled off the boxers. Forget Mjolnir. This was Thor’s real hammer. Goodness me. Would my hand even fit all the way around the damn thing? Was it ever going to fit in my mouth, for that matter?

I kissed him as I stroked his cock for the first time, going just as slow and steady as he had with me at first. He sighed in elation and kissed me back, not stopping until I finally pulled away. I let my mouth graze his Adam’s apple, then kissed my way down his sculpted chest and cobblestone abs until I was level with his cock. He ran his thumb along my lower lip again, his pupil dilated, his breathing fast and shallow with excitement as he watched me.

I licked a stripe up the shaft from base to tip, then circled it with the tip of my tongue. He bit off a curse in Old Norse and hissed, tensing beneath me. I gave him a second and steadily stroked him until he relaxed a bit more and then slid as much as would fit into my mouth. It got easier with each minute; I’d never been with a man his size, but I’d been with men of a decent size at least. He didn’t watch me, his eyes shut, his head rolled back on his neck.

His cock throbbed intensely and he reached for me then, gently pulling me free. “Not yet.”

“I don’t mind,” I said softly.

“I know, but…” Thor pulled me close for a kiss. I moaned as he slid a hand between my thighs to feel the dripping heat there. “I want to be right here when I come for you. Right in this sweet little cunt. I want to watch my come drip down your beautiful thighs tonight. I want to watch you in the throes of your passion. I want you to take from me as much pleasure as you would like tonight, my sweet little dove. You are so very, very beautiful, aren’t you? Mm, I can’t wait to be inside you, sweetheart. To make you moan. To make you lose yourself to me.”

“Thor,” I whimpered weakly, trembling with need. “Please. Now, please, don’t make me wait.”

“Yes,” he breathed against my lips as he positioned me over him. “Yes, now, my love.”

He pulled the scarlet dress off of me and I shimmied out of the bra, panting heavily as I balanced over his thick thighs. I lowered myself onto him slowly, since I knew it would be a stretch, and I wasn’t the least bit ready for all that sensation. God. I didn’t know anything could feel this damn good, not even my B.O.B. in my nightstand. His cock filled me in ways I didn’t know I could be filled.

He must have decided that he was a man on a mission, too, as he then sat up and held me aloft in his brawny arms. My eyes fluttered closed as he lifted me nearly free of him, then pushed my hips hard to move me onto his cock, making it just past halfway. He kissed the spot under my jaw as he moved with slow and evil purpose, letting me cling to his shoulders for strength as the pleasured flickered to life in my loins. All I could feel was heat and smooth textures and his lips on my skin. All I could hear was the heavy lurch of the bed under us and my own broken gasps and moans over the slap of skin on skin. It was the most intimate fuck of my entire life, bar none.

“Mm,” I whined in my throat as he sped up. “P-Please, Thor, not yet, just…a little…longer…”

“Naughty little pet,” he whispered against my throat, his lips curled in a sinister smile. “Coming so soon on my cock, giving me exactly what I want. Such a bad girl. So greedy.”

I blushed. “N-No, I’m not, I promise. I can wait. I can be a good girl, I promise.”

He chuckled lowly as he tipped me back on the mattress, caging me between those massive arms of his and giving me a teasing look as he straddled me. “But you don’t need to be one, my sweet. Come now. Come on my cock. I desire it most desperately.”

“Fuck!” I moaned out, scrambling to clutch the sheets as he rocked that big body into me harder, faster, his cock sliding in to the root finally. “Fuck, Thor, you’re so big, Christ, I’m gonna come again…”

“Good girl,” he whispered roughly, gripping one half of my ass to lift me off the bed, his cock sliding even deeper still. “That’s it, my sweet, you’re so close, just be a good girl and come for me. Mm, you feel so good, milady. So good to me. So soft, so sweet, so wet for me. How much longer can you resist, my naughty girl? How much longer can you resist your Thor?”

I shuddered hard. “Thor, please!”

“I’m all yours, milady,” he lilted just as he swiveled his insidious hips. “All yours to play with for as long as you like. You can feel it, can’t you? You’re so close, my love. Just take it. Good girl. Take my cock. Come for me like a good girl.”

I couldn’t hold out any longer. My thighs twisted completely around him and I surrendered at last, flying off the edge into the climax. It roared through me like a tsunami. Heat bled through every vein like volcanic ash. My whole world became nothing but utter bliss. I’d never known such pleasure.

I kissed him passionately once the climax had slowly drained away. Then I glared at him. “What the hell, Thor?”

He blinked at me. “Milady?”

“I don’t leave my men unsatisfied, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “I do apologize, but gods have a lot of stamina.”

“No shit. I have a reputation to uphold, so—” I wiggled out from under him and then spun around, waggling both my ass and my eyebrows. “—Round Two?”

“As if I would deny my lady anything.” He pulled me back against him and then smoothed his hands over my curves, teasing me just before angling himself inside me again. My arms nearly gave out on that first thrust, aimed right at my overheated center. He pulled me down onto his cock using my hips as a handle, but this time without restraint. He fucked into me fast, hard, tearing ragged moans out of me on every odd thrust.

He hit just the right spot and I cried out, unconsciously leaning forward on my knees so he couldn’t reach, but he immediately picked up on it. He aligned our bodies and buried one hand between my wet thighs, lovingly caressing my clit in between strokes. His mouth found the side of my throat and I bowed my head, clutching the sheets as I tried not to give in, but he’d have none of that.

“You’re being a stubborn lass,” he whispered with an edge of amusement. “Let me in. Let me have you, my sweet. Totally, completely, just as I want.”

“Thor, please.”

“Yes,” he sighed into my hair. “Mm, you feel it, don’t you? You’re so close, milady. Come for me again. You’re so sweet when you come. Sweet as honey.”

“Fuck!” I mewled one last time, then shook apart in his arms. I jerked and twitched as I came on his cock, the ecstasy so sweetly sharp that it stole my breath. Thor pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades and groaned out my name as he came inside me. The hot streak of his come filled the space between my damp thighs and then marked me as his. It was the single most satisfying moment of my entire life.

All thanks to a Norse god and a New York meadery, of all things.

I roused some time later snorkling in my pillow, my hair a total mess in a halo around my head. Thor had passed out half on top of me, half of his mighty body on the bed. I tried not to giggle as I heard him snore slightly, tapping his bulky forearm to wake him before he’d trap me here. He stirred and immediately kissed the spot below his lips as if out of habit alone. “Oh, please excuse me, milady. I didn’t mean to nod off in this position.”

“All good,” I giggled as he scooted us up to the head of the bed and then underneath the covers, then very kindly got his naked ass up and let Leif back into the bedroom. The cat gave me a Bombastic Side Eye, but still curled up at the foot of the bed anyway. Thor gave me little kisses in a row to make me giggle again, then rested his head on one hand.

“May I stay the night?”

I almost wept. He was so fucking polite for a god king. It was insane. “You can stay forever, for all I fucking care.”

Thor laughed boisterously. “Truly? Have I won that much favor with you?”

“Boy, have you ever. You’d better like mead, cats, and bar fights, ‘cause you’re never getting rid of me now.”

The God of Thunder chuckled as he settled down in my arms for the night. “As milady wishes, so it will be.”

FIN