whose_son_am_i | Meme-shenanigans and Continuations.

It's very scary, even for her.

She holds her hands over his, trailing across her skin with him.

She enjoys the praise, and she returns it in kind. Telling him how irresistible she finds him.

Again, Loki was like a big cat in some ways--slow blinks of his eyes, as he watched her. Blue-green glittered while studying her, and his mouth quirked into a smile. Joined as they were, he let his mind brush hers Your soul shines like a star, while speaking the words aloud. "Sjelen din skinner som en stjerne."

He'd used that phrase twice before, though she was never given the meaning before. There was deeper meaning to it still, that maybe someday, he'd share with her. When Asgardians died, their souls became stars.

She knows he's said that phrase before and now she has a meaning to it.

It sounds sweet, a deeper compliment than being called beautiful.

It is a deeper compliment, and part of why he finds her beautiful. She was setting their pace, in control this time.

There are fond whispers, my prince.

It's likely the only time she would use his title if not at some sort of formal gathering.

Shimmers of laughter in her mind, amused and fond. Would you like to be dressed as a proper princess tomorrow night, or something less outstanding? Gentle touches surrounding her mind, cradling it as something truly precious.

Do I get a tiara? Will you have a tiara?

There is teasing, even as she controls their pace and speeds up a bit.

Likely not. If anything, I plan to suggest that we go with more appropriate Midgard inspired business-formal wear. It'll help others feel at ease, although we've been wearing light armor for our other formal dealings.

He shifted with her, complimenting her movements and pace, one hand moving up to brush her cheek and throat affectionately. "But if you really do want to play princess, I can arrange that."

"I'd be a terrible princess."

It's said before she's gasping as they reach an especially satisfying pace.

She's going to be exhausted.

"Perhaps." Was all Loki said in reply, as he could see ways she would indeed be terrible at it. Others, she might do very well in. But neither was at the forefront of his thoughts or a priority right then. Letting that hand move from her throat down to her breast. Cupping it, playing with her nipple, remembering what she enjoyed.

It would be a very satisfied exhaustion.

She wouldn't ever be able to give up her work. Though there was a time in her childhood where, like so many other girls, she had wanted to be a princess.

The way he touches her is perfection, he already remembers everything that made her sigh his name.

It had been worth remembering, and she'd shown him through their mental connection which had helped cement it. I do love hearing you say my name like that. With another slow-blink of affection, before his hand is moving once more. To just above where they joined, where he let his fingers play where she needed it most.

"Loki" it's one of those sighs he enjoys. It's only going to take a moment before she comes undone. Her head tipped back as she rides out her pleasure.

"Vakker Christine..." Low voiced and soft. It isn't long with her shuddering around him before he follows, seeking to pull her closer and hold her tight to his body. Similarly, his mind wraps around hers more fully, holding them both.

His voice when he's saying her name like that; it lives in her mind, sometimes shows up in her dreams.

There are a few moments after he follows where she stays exactly where she is, kissing him in the afterglow before finally moving and pulling the blanket over them both.

Vakker was likely to be one of those words she'd pick up first--he'd called her beautiful again, and chosen to use her name. Kissing her back, nuzzling her, wrapping himself around her as much as able while snuggling down into the blankets.

"Sleep well, Sweetling. I have you, and I'm not letting go."

Meme-shenanigans and Continuations.

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