st_ratagem | Fishy drama (Loki and Val)

Entry tags:

loki,
valkyrie

Fishy drama (Loki and Val)

Goldfish, it turned out, were hypnotic. They swirled around, sometimes in a school and sometimes random, mostly empty fish minds mostly a dull, whispery hum. Despite that, it was easy to see little fish stories unfolding and little cliques forming and breaking up. There were reasons Loki had filched a roomy armchair from elsewhere in the Inn and set it up near the tank: he, Valkyrie, or both together spent enough time fish-watching that comfort was called for.

At present there seemed to be a small cadre of goldfish endlessly circling the same decorative rock, chasing off all the other fish when they approached. It could have been just a gang with territory, but Loki and Valkyrie had decided it was a fishy cult, worshipping the rock as a god. Valkyrie had suggested a small statue of him more than once, to see if the fish cult would abandon their rock. He’d laughed, but he had created their world and provided their food, so... it wasn’t that ridiculous.

Regardless, the fish continued to circle their rock. Holy wars were something to work up to.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All too proud of her body, Valkyrie lazily guided his hands to her cheeks, driving them down over the swell of her breasts to rest back onto her hips. There wasn’t always this much touch and preamble to the sex itself, but today—it was different.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do.” She watched every micro-expression of the prince’s sharp features, warming his knuckles and fingertips.

“Anything. Whatever you want.” It was almost entrancing, watching his hands stroke and caress her skin, nothing stopping him in any way. He slid a hand around the back of her neck to pull her up into a kiss, murmuring after it broke,”What would make your u feel better?”

"Whatever it is Your Highness--Loki--likes." She cracked another wry little smirk, her bare flesh scraping softly against the fabric of his shirt, thighs settling on his. She situated her hips down with more force than needed, a taste of the dominant role she so often took. "I want to hear you say it."

Loki had to laugh quietly, shading to a groan as her hips ground down. Clearly, wanting to please was mutual. Not that it wasn’t always, but they were generally less explicit and verbal about it. “I want your mouth. Your hands. All of you.” He shifted and moved to make her easy to pick up, and stood, moving them to the bed. Valkyrie wasn’t that heavy, and she wasn’t going to struggle. “And I want to relocate so we have some room to move.”

Valkyrie tuned herself to the rhythm of Loki's voice, the sound of it just as satisfying as the words he was speaking with it. Instead being sharp or honeyed, it was warm.

It all reminded her of how she despised the sound of his cloying purr towards The Grandmaster. She drowned those memories in the icy depths where they belonged and tugged possessively at his collar as they began to lower, rolling atop him.

Loki took the tug as a signal to remove his shirt, so he sat up enough to slide out of it and leave her gripping the collar of an empty garment. She could do as she pleased with it from there, because he was much more interested in kissing (and mouthing, and occasionally nipping) all the skin readily available: throat, shoulder, breasts. And because she liked his voice, he didn’t bother to keep his thoughts to himself during moments his mouth was free. “I always used to wonder how it would be to bed someone I actually like. No deals, just... this.”

Valkyrie was quick to toss the now-empty garment aside, but not too quick. The scent of it caught her, every sense heightened. There were stories of what Jotun smelled like as rumor and none of them flattering. It was sharp and subtle and she almost thought to point it out when his tongue flicked over her chest with a sudden pressure that made her tremble.

Listening, she encouraged him on with a reliable push and tug to his hair, fingers lost in his locks.

Her fingers were truly fantastic, familiarity from the other side. Valkyrie knew what he liked, where he was sensitive. Loki rolled them to put her on her back, so her fingers could continue twisting in his hair and he could continue exploring her skin with his mouth while also sliding one hand down to rub and stroke. She’d said ‘golden fingers’, after all - it was a good thing to re-prove. “You’re not getting anything but me. I’m not getting anything but you. All I want is you.”

Though Loki's voice was colored with passion, he was still purposeful in his movements, stroking and penetrating her with his fingers in rhythm like a giant pulse. Valkyrie wound her legs around his his back, slowly rolling and bucking her hips. The only reply she could muster was a soft and inarticulate moan, complementing his sweet nothings.

"I love seeing you like this." He bit her earlobe, just to emphasize, without altering his fingers' rhythm even slightly. Valkyrie responsive, trembling and moaning in his arms, was always pure pleasure. "I do enjoy being at your mercy, but the reverse is just as good. Sometimes, anyway."

His clever fingers working her inner walls sent strong tingles of pleasure that quickly transformed into sparks warming her lower stomach. Valkyrie bucked her hips and turned her head to catch Loki’s lips, using her own fingers to twist in his hair and draw red trails across his back.

“Give me more.” Her voice was low and unapologetically wanton.

Loki groaned against her mouth and let his fingers move faster and harder - the Valkyrie wanted more, she would get more, especially when she asked with scratches down his back and rough twist-tugs to his hair. "Your wish, my dear."

The heat in her belly spread like fire through the rest of her in a rapidly mounting climax that Valkyrie saw no reason to deny herself of—nor Loki, gasping and sighing and clenching and clinging to him in feverish approval.

Warmth lingered between the two of them, even as her body relaxed back against the bed. Her head rolled back and she smiled down at the prince. “That was a first. In awhile.”

“Mmm?” What was? Not ending up in bed together, that wasn’t unusual. Only one of them being naked? Perhaps that. It hardly mattered, when he could pull her close and kiss that smile. He’d wanted to please and reassure, and it seemed he’d managed at least one of the two.

"Many I've slept with were not so deft with their hands." Or possessed the right biology to please with hands alone. She lazily wrapped her legs back around his waist, purring against his lips. Rolling her heels over the backs of his thighs, she pushed up to grind against his crotch, eager to return the favor.

"Ah, compliments." It wasn't flattery, and not just because he'd just experienced her pleasure in his hand; Valkyrie wasn't the flattering kind. He ground back into her, enjoying the friction even if he didn't exactly enjoy still being clothed. His hands were free enough to deal with that, yes, but getting his pants off would require backing away from her, and that seemed... unacceptable.

“Care for another? Or would you have me do otherwise, Your Highness.” Still leaning into that bit (it was highly amusing and profoundly unobjectionable in this context), their rhythms found each other easily. After as many encounters as they’d had, everything simply felt familiar.

But there was still more to discover.

“Your wish is my command.”

It was often frustrating when she used Your Highness instead of his name, but it fit this moment, so Loki let it go in favor of another hard kiss. Once it broke, he almost growled, “Do something useful, then. Mouth or hands. Anything.”

The reminders of his red blood made her own thrum in satisfaction, easily tossing Loki onto his back and climbing atop him. Yes, she could and often did simply act, but there was a deep release in getting the man to actually say what he wanted out loud. So often, it seemed he didn’t even know.

Taking care of his dark bottoms in a harsh yank, they were soon glittering into the distance for Valkyrie warm her hands along his hips, his thighs, and soon his cock that she wasted no time in closing her lips around. Teasing, indulging, delaying it all just a little more.

”Yes!” Loki’s back arched and one hand drove into her hair to encourage more while the other settled for twisting in sheets. Her mouth was fantastic, wet heat and teasing friction. Her hands, sliding over his hips and thighs, ensured that even if he moved - which he did, trying to get to more himself - she maintained as much control as she liked. “Both. So good.”

The deepest recesses of her psyche wouldn’t let it out, but she’d imagined what the Grandmaster’s pet would look like, sound like, taste like with the right force applied...even if just to get the shoe on the other foot. Still, it was a spark. Now, he was Loki the prince as opposed to Loki the plaything and it was all far, far better than any spiteful fantasy concoction.

Valkyrie’s tongue slid across the underside of his length as she rose back up to sit, lips plump and reddened, and she was climbing atop him to sink back down until flesh was against flesh. She sighed and wound her hips around, setting that rhythm

Loki groaned again as she sank down and started to move, then sat up to claim her mouth again. One hand slid to the small of her back to encourage her to keep going, as if there was any chance she’d actually stop.

In the beginning, it was always about chasing the climax and the relief, mixed with the excitement of a partner she'd been grudgingly stewing over for some time. When the flame didn't fade, she'd taken just as much joy in pacing or drawing things out to wind Loki up and watch him go (of course he gave as good as he got.) Sex had evolved into a tool for conversation without lies, at least for Valkyrie. It was the freest she could be, as trapped as they were.

These thoughts and feelings mixed registered in an instant as she bit and drove down against the prince's body and she tightened around him rhythmically, emboldening that second climax as it swiftly built.

For Loki, sex was most often either purely meaningless or transactional - physical pleasure with or without the benefit of a step towards some goal or other. Valkyrie had perhaps started in the first category, but had quickly moved... somewhere else. An actual partner, rather than a tool or a toy, and one who didn’t require him to dissemble or evade.

His fingernails scraped up her spine in response to her bites, and he drove up and forward into her increasingly desperately. Praise and encouragement became increasingly less coherent, ending as entirely wordless sound when orgasm hit.

Slowly rocking through her last, Valkyrie sunk into him and indulged her newest need for skin to warm skin. Loki’s had a cooler baseline, and though she didn’t say it aloud, she quite appreciated not having to kick one or the other out of bed for threat of overheating.

‘I’d fancy a bath soon.’ She thought loudly, as if inviting Loki to hear it.

Fishy drama (Loki and Val)

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