#not my usual stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snowflakesnsundry · 3 months

Text

The Embrace of a Stranger: Part 1

Word Count: 5,961

Summary: There are rumors about the Beltane celebration in the Golden Palace. It’s said it’s an event where no one appears as they are-where people of all classes and ranks mingle without the burden of status-and where the air is filled with the smell of sweat and sex.

This is your first time in attendance, and Loki has sworn he would know you no matter who you looked like. You’re nervous, but you have to trust him- and hope the man who ends up burried deep inside you is the man you are hoping him to be.

Warnings: Story is Rated R, and contains elements of mistaken identity, dub-con, public sex, free use, and just general debauchery.

Author’s Notes: So this is that fic I mentioned earlier. This thing is over 15k words long so im breaking it into parts- largely because i want to do some further editing/polishing on it. Part 2 is now up on tumblr!

<3

The stars, and twisting colors of the galaxy in which Asgard was nestled, shimmered against the ink black sky. Brighter than usual, you wondered if it was because the moon had gone dark-fallen into shadow as if closing her watchful eye.

With what was unfolding in the city below, you found it hard to blame her.

For weeks now soft, pastel banners had woven themselves across the rooftops in a colorful web. All across the city they hung from shop fronts, homes, and market stalls alike; even gracing the halls rof the palace, wrapped around pillars and dangling from arches alongside floral displays- undoubtably kept vibrant by the very same magics that preserved the gardens. It was clear that the Queen had put her all into preparing the event. But oh how you wished she wouldn’t…

You would only be able to stall for so much longer, but your fingers dug into the balustrade as you considered what must be going on down below. For a while now you had watched the silver trails of smoke lift from the rooftops and escape towards the sky; each fresh brush of night air bringing the scent of the feasts and flowers as music mingled with singing, shouting, and…

The later it gets, the worse it will get.

Beltane had always been a festival you avoided-for a litany of reasons- but you had at least enjoyed a tradition here and there; the maypoles and flower crowns; the lighthearted dancing and singing in a giddy welcoming of spring. But every tenth year the festival changed. You had seen it in the eyes of those around you; in the giggles that came from hidden corners as you passed, the constant -brazen- flirtation between not just the servants but the members of court. It was hard for you to tell why they even bothered.

None of you will recognize each other anyway.

Pressing your eyes closed you turned back into your quarters. The gown Lady Ragna has made for you lay draped across the bed you and Loki shared, it’s golden fabric shimmering in the firelight. For the first time it was something she had made without input from either of you-tradition, you were told. In fact, the thing had not even arrived until that morning, carefully packaged in black cloth so that not even the fidgety courier would know what lay inside.

There had been a breif argument between you and Loki earlier in the day. You had begged to see what she had sent for him-promising to show you what had been sent for you in exchange. It would be a way for you to recognize one another- something to temper the nerves that had you shaking from head to foot- but he had refused. He had smirked at you, promising he would be able to recognize you no matter what- that he would never let you attend this on your own.

If Loki left you alone, you would kill him yourself.

A trembling finger reached to trace the soft fabric of the gown. If you could call it a gown. It looked more to you like loosely joined strips of fabric. This was not to say it hadn’t been crafted with Ragna’s usual polish and care, but your nerves had long since got the better of you.

Every ten years-when this celebration occurred- the attendees of the Palace’s Beltane event were expected to all dress in a single color. What color that was shifted from year to year, rotating between the banner colors of the members of the royal family, landing this year on the Queen’s signature gold. Anonymity was the cornerstone upon which the event was built-it would not be what it was without it- and so uniformity of color was just one more level added to ensure no one could recognize who they walked among.

That, in and of itself, was a bit of a blessing-because you did not know how you could continue on if anyone saw you like… this.

You brushed your fingers across the gold band that would wrap around your neck. Etched with great care, twisting patterns wrapped around gems of yellow topaz that were sure to catch the light. Two chain links hung from it-about where you would expect your collar bone to be- a long strip of gold fabric hanging from each. Were you not so horrified that this was all there was to the top of your gown, you might have marveled at the cloth Ragna chose. You had worried what she would provide you might be a gaudy sort of metalic- the kind of fabric that would stick to your skin and chafe all through the night; but this? It was soft-cool to the touch- and pooled delicately in your hand.

Almost as if it were made up of a million tiny links of chain.

Though it glittered under the touch of firelight, it was subtle- gentle. You were equally glad for how cool it was to the touch; because if the rumors were true, the heat from entangled partygoers might boil you alive.

Cautiously you undressed, not daring to look in the mirror as you did so. The collar opened easily-a perfect fit around your neck- and you slipped the small latch that held it closed into place, praying it wouldn’t come undone.

When it had arived, you had been a bit offended Ragna had also sent along instructions; but as you held the strips of fabric in your hand you were incredibly grateful they were not just written, but illustrated.

Left strip to cover the right breast, right strip to cover the left breast.

The strips crossed one another right below the dip where your sternum met your clavicle, broadening just a bit to cradle each breast before tying togeather at your back. It was the sort of outfit beneath which you could wear no underthings- a major concern when you had first seen the gown- but you should have known a few enchantments could fix a myriad of problems.

Something to ask Loki about later.

To your releif each time you adjusted your chest, the fabric molded to it-holding it in place without any rigidity or discomfort. It made you wonder why she hadn’t made all your dresses this way.

Small comforts asside, you still had the skirt to face. It too was set with a gold band-engraved and set just as the collar had been. To your dismay, you realized was the wrong size to fit your waist- but just the right size to rest about your hips. The fabric here, at least, was more recognizable as a skirt- though the double slits on its front ran so high that the place where the fabric joined was hidden beneath the golden band. Just as cool and mailable as the first piece, it fell smooth over your backside; pooling about your ankles in a way that let you know the heels Ragna provided would be unavoidable. The strip of fabric that ran down your front was not nearly as wide as you had hoped; and just like the top, it left no place to hide underthings.

A few items had been provided as well- decoration for this ‘gown’- and whose instructions you were equally grateful for. A broach, carved from some honey yellow stone you could not name- had been shaped into a flower that bloomed up between the curve of your breasts. From its base hung a chain of gold that fell loosely over your exposed stomach- a second gemstone carved to look like a seed attatched to its end, weighting it to swing like a pendulum across your skin.

You were happy to learn that the heels you had been provided were remarkably comfortable-which left you with only one last task before you left for the night.

Upon your vanity sat a single glass bottle, filled to the top with a liquid that glowed a soft red in the darkness. Loki had taken his with him when he had departed- opting to prepare in an unoccupied guest chamber after deciding he could not trust you not to peek. You could still feel the kiss he had left upon your lips as he swore to you there was no reason to worry. He would find you; he would know you anywhere. Everything would be fine.

As you sat before the mirror you decided you wouldn’t look at your reflection until the potion had been downed. Perhaps then you would be less anxious about how you appeared. The taste was cloyingly sweet. Wrinkling your nose, you tried to swallow down any of the taste that lingered on your tongue, but you feared it would be quite some time before you were free of the taste.

In seconds you felt the heat spread across your body, the prickle of magic against your skin raising the hairs on your arm as it traveled through you. The sensation was not comfortable, but you had endured worse. With eyes pressed shut you waited until the sensation passed; only then lifting your eyes to the mirror.

Seeing someone elses’ face in place of your own was beyond jarring. You looked nothing like you had before-the potion changing everything from the features of your face to the curve of your hips. The person in the mirror was someone new- and oh was she lovely.

Your cheeks warmed as you ran your fingers through your hair. What was there before had changed into long waves of jet-black hair- a feature strikingly reminiscent of Loki. It sparked a glimmer of hope that this might make it that much easier for him to find you.

Something about the familiar strands made you want to style it with great care. It would make you later still, but in the back of your mind you almost hoped you could stall long enough to miss it entirely.

And yet…

As your fingers worked braids into your hair, your mind wandered. The festivities in the city could get quite… lewd; but if rumor was to be believed, it was nothing compared to what went on within the walls of the palace. How much rumors could be trusted, you couldn’t say, but if they could…

In your head you could hear it-the cries of pleasure and the strike of flesh against flesh rising high above the chatter in the corrination hall. Nobles, servants, and soldiers alike tangled in one another- never to know who they had spent their night in or on. A shiver ran down your spine, and you tried to ignore the way you found it not entirely unpleasant.

——

You hadn’t the faintest idea how long you stood at the end of the corridor, eyes trained on the door leading into the coronation hall in which the event would be held. You could hear it, feel it, smell it even from so far away. You could feel your pulse hammering across every inch of your body-anxiety fighting with the unexpected heat you felt building between your legs.

Perhaps that heat only made it worse.

The smell of wine, fruit, and sweetened bread mingled with the sharp tang of sweat and sex. From where you stood you already had felt the temperature rise; and though the singing and chatter within carried across the air, it was the cries of pleasure and unrestrained moans that stole the entirety of your focus.

This is what you get for arriving so late.

Any tame moments that might have eased you into the evening had long since passed-and you knew what waited for you inside.

You have to go in.

But your feet wouldn’t move.

Hovering, you could feel the eyes of the guards stationed at the door; and you wondered if they resented being chosen for this shift. Now and then a giggling couple would bump into them as they stumbled from the hall-slipping away to enjoy one another privately as opposed to publicly.

You swore beneath your breath. Why were you so nervous? It wasn’t as if you had never seen a nude body before, and you weren’t some untouched maiden- so why did your heart continue to hammer so?

As you shifted on your feet, you felt how slick it had become between your thighs.

It’s not fear you’re feeling…

You shook your head. You wouldn’t think of it; you wouldn’t pitty yourself or hover outside the door as the soldiers watched you standing there. You would enter with your head held high-find Loki- and get through the night unscathed.

You shoved down the little twinge in the back of your mind that felt something like disappointment.

Briefly you took comfort in the idea that, if there were soldiers on duty, their Captain would likely be similarly occupied. Of all the people you did not want to run into at a festival such as this, Baldur was at the very top of your list; but the idea of his absence made the room seem safer- so you grabbed hold of that little bit of courage and took your first step- just as you heard a voice speak up beside you.

“Finally found your courage, have you?” The abrupt interruption had you nearly leaping from your skin; you had to slap your hand across your mouth in order to stifle a scream.

Irritably you turned to the man who now stood beside you, faltering as you looked up into a pair of wild, glimmering eyes. He was tall, his long blonde hair hung about his shoulders, a few silken braids woven to frame his features and keep the strands out of his face. His eyes were a rich brown, and they shone as they reflected the glittering gold dancing in the firelight.

He did not hesitate as he placed a broad hand on your lower back, his fingers spreading delicately across your skin. His smile was soft-kind- as he ran his thumb over the curve at the base of your spine. “It can be quite intimidating-I nearly lost my nerve the first time I attended, but once you’re inside it’s not nearly as overwhelming as you might think.”

You stared at him, shocked by how casually familiar he was with you, and yet unable to shake the feeling of familiarity that he stirred.

He pulled you closer and you caught the faint scent of dust and steel.

Every bit of tension that had built up in you-every knot that had twisted its way into your muscles- unraveled in an instant; the fear you might never find him fully washed away. Your whole countenance brightened, and you sank into him as he pulled you close. He pressed his hips firmly against yours and you allowed your hands to settle about his waist.

A warm, ochre yellow, the wrap shirt he wore fit loosely- the V formed by the two sides of the shirt dipping nearly all the way down to his waist. He had bound it loosely, the knot of its band resting just above his hips. The pants he wore were just as loose as the top- shifting about him with his every move, and thin enough to make you painfully aware of what rested just beneath.

Almost on instinct your fingers crept to his bare chest, wandering freely across it as you lavished in his embrace. “I must admit, I do feel a bit uneasy entering alone,” a coy grin slipped across your features, “but if I could find someone to acompany me…”

His eyes flashed, and you felt him stiffen against your hips. He had begun to move his fingers slowly across the skin at the base of your spine, and you let out a soft sigh as you felt them journeying further down than up. “Well then, good Lady,” he said with a wry grin, “I would be delighted to serve as your companion and… entertainment for the evening.”

An electric current seemed to pulse across your skin. “How shameless,” you purred. “Were you any more eager I might think you have been out here waiting for me.”

Hunger burned behind his eyes sending another jolt through you. Despite the heat growing within you, his touch felt warm as he brushed his knuckles across your cheek. The hand at your back slipped lower, and you hummed gently as it slid over the curve of your ass. His scent consumed your senses as he leaned in, lips brushing against the curve of your ear. “Darling, I think you are exactly who I have been waiting for.”

Your breath wavered, fingers curing against his chest. Suddenly it seemed so obvious why he proclaimed he would be able to recognize you no matter what; everything about the man in your arms was so familiar. You recognized the way his fingers brushed your skin, the curve of his grin-even the cadence of his speech was familiar; and he had waited for you.

“Well then,” you whispered, breathless, “I would hate to see the efforts of such a charming creature go to waste.” His growl of approval only served to worsten the heat growing within you.

“Well then,” pulling back, he offered you his arm-as if just moments ago he hadn’t been pressed against you… “Tonight, you may call me Vidar; what might I call you?”

You tried to force down a smile so you might match the gentlemanly demeanor he had decided to adopt-at least, for now. Each invitation had come with a name- one different from your own that you would go by until the spell wore off at daybreak- and you had to dig through the back of your mind to find what had been written on your page.

“Sigrid.” You slipped your hand into the crook of his arm, unafraid to keep him close. ‘Vidar’s hand slipped atop yours, interlacing your fingers as he gripped you tight.

“Lady Sigrid,” he announced with a grin, “I promise you will not regret your choice. I will do everything in my power to ensure this is a night you will remember.”

—-

What lay beyond the doors was breathtaking in more ways than one. The event hall was already grand without a single bit of decoration, but what unfolded before your eyes went beyond the pale.

“Nines…” you muttered, holding a little tighter to your companions arm.

Before you sprawled a single, long table that boasted every sweet thing you could imagine. Wines, fruits, sweet breads and the like filled every possible space until its wooden surface was invisible to the eye. Were it not for the towering figureheads at each end you might have guessed it didn’t exist at all- and the remainder of the room would only lend credence to that.

Above your head was not a ceiling, but an intricate mosaic of blooming flowers arraigned to mimic the night sky. Trees grew, reaching up towards the fragrant sky with branches dotted by violet petals and leaves of emerald green. Beneath their canopies sat lavishly upholstered chase lounges, each one seemingly wide enough for at least two partygoers to occupy.

And occupy them they did.

Face burning you turned instead the veritable maze of gossamer curtains colored delicate pastel versions of the royal colors. You did not need to see within them to know what they were for.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the strands of Vidar’s hair brushed against your cheek. “Don’t take it in all at once,” he whispered, his breath hot as it wound around your ear. “We can explore one thing at a time-and if any of it catches your fancy…”

You squeezed his arm, turning to meet his eye -something that seemed to catch him just a bit off guard. “Thank you,” you replied, stifling a laugh as you leaned to press your forehead to his “I suppose if I never quite find the courage to enjoy you here,there will be plentywe can make up for back in your quarters.”

His breath shuddered as he pulled cautiously back. “Be careful what you say, girl; or I might find it quite difficult to keep myself restrained.

Fire coursed across your skin as you felt your eyes go wide. “P…Perhaps we start with a drink, then.”

Something wicked flashed in his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling upward into a downright predatory smile. “That, I believe, is the perfect place to start.”

Togeather you descended the few stairs that separated you from the golden crowd, plunging into sea of revelers and all the sensations that would come with it. Food and wine mingled with a delicate incense-no doubt selected to mask the scent of sex that hovered in the air; but it was to no avail. Those around you seemed to wander about in various states of undress, hands wandering freely between strangers that would never know eachother’s names.

“Do you have any preference with wine?”

You looked at Vidar with a frown. You were certain you had discussed it before- but then again, it had been months since you were free to drink when under the court’s watchful eye.

Perhaps he’s just forgotten.

“Something with some bitterness to it,” you said, “too sweet and it will make my stomach turn.”

“Ah, it would be a crime to put you out of commission so early in the night.”

You laughed as he kissed your hand, vanishing into the crowd as he sought a glass for you both.

Alone, the racing thoughts in your mind began to fade. The initial shock had worn away, and as you allowed your eyes to wander found yourself glazing over nude forms without a second thought. Couples beneath the trees seemed nothing of note, and there was an odd sort of freedom you doubted anything else could replicate. Without the burden of titles and names they were no one- but in the arms of a passing stranger they could spend a night at the center of their world; becoming a strangers everything.

And if you left it at that, the night might have progressed rather uneventfully; but what stood at the end of the maze of curtains was impossible to ignore.

There were large, upholstered platforms -somewhat reminiscent of a bed- stationed at regular intervals. By your estimation five individuals could lay comfortably upon it- so long as they were tall enough to make it there.

The legs were abnormally long, and you realized with a flutter in your stomach that they seemed to be about waist high. Pillows of a number of sizes and shapes were strewn about, likely to be used by whoever opted to… perform.

Golden fabric lay strewn across the stone floor -discarded by those who occupied a suprisingly large number of the beds. Though watching crowds obscured your vision, you could hear the cries of pain and pleasure shouted unhindered toward the sky. Your mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry.

You tried to tell yourself you weren’t curious about what was happening- that you didn’t need to see what elicited the cheers and lewdencouragement from those watching and waiting. Chewing at your lip you felt your breathing shift-becoming quick and shallow as something in your core began to burn. Between your legs you could feel the eager swell of your cunt despite your efforts to direct your attention elsewhere. Your hands fidgeted restlessly, and before you knew it your legs were carrying you toward the circle that had formed around one of the beds.

Several individuals lay stretched upon it, their bodies writhing with every touch and thrust their partners provided. They seemed to move from partner to partner like honeybees to flowers; slipping fingers, tongues, and cocks slick with cum in and out of whoever they pleased.

Who were they? How did they find themselves laying there?

Your mind placed you there atop the upholstery, Loki burried between your legs- his thrusts so desperate inside you that they would make the whole platform shake. You wanted the sting of his teeth against your skin, the cries of others in your ears, the heat of…

Your stomach flipped and you lost your nerve.

Quickly exiting the ring of spectators you felt the subtle urge to flee- or at the very least, move- but you reminded yourself that you did not want to get lost in the crowd. Restlessly you pulled at your fingers, wondering what might be taking him so long.

You could wait. You would be fine.

And still, your eyes were drawn to those waiting crowds.

It was as if you had drifted into a haze, the fog in your mind dulling the sounds and smells of the swarms around you until two observers stepped back from one of the circles-offering you a glimpse at what lay beyond.

The looks of pleasure upon their faces stirred something deep within you. It wasn’t just the expressions of those on display, either- it was the look of desire; of insatiable hunger painted across the faces of those who looked on. As the space closed you noted how many had their hands beneath their clothes, pleasuring themselves to the melodies of lust that continued to play.

Again, that heat within you stirred. Everything that lay before your eyes seemed to vanish in favor of the fantasy that played in your head. What would they do if it were you splayed out before them. Would they stroke themselves at the sight of your bare form? Would they revel in the way each touch-each forceful stroke of Loki’s cock- would make you sing? Would they want you for themselves? Would you let…

No. No no no you cannot…

But why, you wondered. There were none here to judge you, and not a one of them would know who you are. You could lay yourself at the mercy of every last soul in Asgard and come tomorrow, they would be none the wiser.

But if Loki doesn’t feel the same…

Even in the haze of your lust you were willing to accept he might not take kindly to watching those who were eager and willing as their touch explored every inch of you. Watching them sheathe themselves inside you. A shiver coursed down your spine, leaving you shaken as you tried not to watch on.

“I see something has drawn your eye.” You could hear the smirk in his tone. Low and gravely, his voice slipped across your consciousness, inflaming your desire even further. An involuntary whimper slipped free of your lips, your hand reaching back as you sank your fingers into his shoulder- desperate not to let your legs fail you.

“That bad, is it?”

Your grip tightened as he slid his fingers delicately over the exposed skin of your stomach-his touch so hot it burned against the midnight air. He wrapped himself firmly around you, his knee wedging between your legs before he sank his teeth into the curve of your neck. A strangled cry escaped you before your hand could clap down over your mouth.

“Lo… Vidar, I…”

“Before you say a word,” he growled, his hips rolling against your backside, “know I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’, nor do I want to hear you say ‘I can’t’ without providing me with good reason.”

You swallowed hard. “And what would qualify as a good reason?”

“I’m not cruel, girl,” he chuckled, “tell me honestly that you don’t want to- that it holds no interest to you- or that it would cause you undue pain.” As he spoke, a hand began to slip down past the golden band at your waist, his broad fingers inching asside the strip of fabric that shielded you from the world. “But be careful, good lady- because it will not take much to know you are lying.”

Cool midnight air drifted across your exposed cunt, Vidar’s fingers following close behind. All you could do was whimper-clinging to his arm as the heat of his hand reached down to cover all of you. “Go on then,” he growled, the heel of his hand beginning to press ever so slightly against your clit. “Tell me what it is you need. What it is you want.”

Oh no…

Your head was spinning now that you could feel his hands on you. Closing your eyes you sank into the pleasure stirring at your core-your mind devoid of any thought but his touch. “I don’t want you to be angry,” you whimpered between increasingly heavy breaths.

“And why would I be angry, my dear?”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t quite know if you’re the type to… share.”

The sudden throb of his cock where it was pressed to your backside suggested otherwise.

When he withdrew his hand you whined in protest, but he took your hand-pulling you along before you could say much else.

The pulse already pounding in your ears became almost deafening as he pulled you towards one of the far beds- using his size to push through the large crowd until he pulled you through to the very front.

Your eyes went wide.

She looked exhausted. Her chest heaved, her fingers clambering for purchase on whatever they could find. Her hair was a tangled mess above her , every inch of her skin slick with sweat, saliva and cum. Between her legs stood a broad-shouldered man- his form bent over her, gripping her hips as he drove himself so violently inside her that each thrust caused the platform to shake.

And all the while, she sang. Cries of pleasure greeted every clap of his skin against hers, the expression on her face seemingly locked in a perminant state of bliss

It made your heart race, your face burn, your stomach flip and flutter in ways you did not quite know how to handle. When you tried to turn your eyes away you felt Vidar’s fingers dig into your cheeks and chin. His breath was in your ear as he forced your eyes back on the woman before you, writhing in pleasure. “Don’t look away- not until you’ve told me the truth.”

So long as your eyes were open, you knew you could not look nowhere else-and something about it let your body settle in and embrace the pooling heat between your thighs. When your legs began to falter, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you up as he pulled you tightly to him; a move that only seemed to make matters worse.

So to speak…

You could feel him- the swell of his cock pressed firmly against your back. You could feel the slight shudder that came with each exhaled breath, the heat radiating from his body. Once more you felt his knee wedge itself between your legs, parting you just enough for his fingers to explore.

Once more the front panel of your skirt was moved asside- but this time he lifted it fully, wrapping the cloth around your back before tucking it into the golden band about your hips. When his touch settled gently against your clit, you could see the curious eyes his gesture had drawn.

Without meaning to, you met the gaze of a pair of striking blue eyes. Bright and clear they seemed to stare so deeply into you that you may as well have been already rendered bare. Those eyes had once been locked on the woman before him, but now? Now they were locked on you.

As you squirmed, he held your gaze.

“So eager,” Vidar sighed, lavishing his tongue against the delicate skin of your neck. “But I wonder, is it just curiosity that has so… riled you? Or perhaps…” his finger lifted from your clit to settle as far back as he could reach on your folds. “Perhaps it is envy.”

Slowly he slipped his finger between your folds- already so slick that there was almost no resistance. You cried out in pleasure and agony as his finger dragged torturously slowly from back to front- warm and wet by the time it slid across your throbbing clit.

“Good lady?” You could hear his grin. “Is it really envy? Do you see the way he takes his pleasure from her-without anyhesitation?” You whimpered in reply. “Tell me then, in your own words… tell me how you want to be her.”

Eyes still locked straight ahead, your vision was filled by the scene before you. Vidar’s finger ran through your folds over and over as wild pleasure made your head spin. Table still shaking, you watched as the man burried inside her falter-his stroke losing its rhythm as his shoulders began to tighten.

Oh…

With each erratic thrust he chased his climax, his moans rising in harmony with hers as they both sought their high.

Tell me you want to be her…

Weight collapsing onto his elbows, you watched the man’s head fall to the mattress beside her - her hand rising to cradle the back of his head, her fingers twisting into his sweat-soaked hair. You couldn’t hear what they whispered, couldn’t see where he had pressed his lips into her skin- but as he pulled himself from inside her and stepped away, you could see what he had left behind.

A slow, thick ribbon of white dripped from her cunt to pool on the floor.

“Goodness,” Vidar teased, “for something like that…” he rolled his hips against yours, pressing you against his finger just enough to hint at the promise of slipping inside, but nothing more. “It takes more than one man to leave a mess like that.” His words settled inside your mind, thick and sweet as honey. “How many would you guess shes had? Five? Ten?”

“Vidar…” More eyes were upon you as you gasped his name. Hungry expressions watched and wondered if you too would soon be on display.

“I might guess a little closer to twenty. You might be too short to see, but from the looks of the floor? That is not the first time so much has slipped free.”

The sound you made was neither moan nor desperate cry- it was need, a primal, deep-seated desire that basked in the eyes trained upon you. Nails digging into the skin of Vidar’s arm, you hoped the words you were trying to force from your mouth came through as actualwords.

“I’ve struck a chord, haven’t I?” You nodded eagerly, grinding your hips into his hand- your body aching with the need to have something burried inside you. As the next guest stepped forward to claim the beauty splayed across the table, you felt something akin to… disappointment.

“Y..yes…”

“Then say it.” His finger rested motionless at your entrance, his fingers sliding from your chin to wrap tightly around your neck. “Tell me you want me to fuck you- that you want them to fuck you.” Your shaking legs began to fail you, only serving to tighten the grip around your neck as your falling weight sank his finger one knuckle deep inside you.

Nothing could have held back the moan that resonated in your chest. “Please… please- I need something inside me… someone inside me…” These words were ones you would have never expected to utter; not in a place like this. Not with so many eyes upon you. Yet your mind was so addled with desire that you spoke them through shaking breaths- unafraid and unashamed. “Fuck me… let them fuck me…please…”

There was no reason you could find not to. He seemed as aroused by the idea as you were and, when the sun rose over the city, the only ones who would know what had transpired would be you, and Loki.

Enjoy it.

It would be ten years before such a chance arose again

CONTINUE TO PART 2

#loki fanfic #loki reader insert #loki marvel #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki x you #Smut #dubcon #not my usual stuff #baldur is the worst

20 notes · View notes