[ The change in mood is so abrupt that it surprises her. For a moment, unseen, Dany's fingers curl into a fist, then unfurl again as something is released.
The laugh is short, and less full than it would have been, had she been in good humor before now--but it comes all the same. ]
Find me. [ The command is pitched low, coyly, tinged with redirected heat she had felt for her impending destruction. ] If you are not quick, I may grow impatient.
[ Loki has always prided herself on the emotional whiplash. it's always easier to deal with things when those things seemed far less serious than they were. if she could cope, then Dany could cope, right? ]
When have I ever not been quick? [ to get what she wants, anyway. ] I'm wounded.
[ but she likes that tone of voice, the burning embers that threaten to become full flame. renewed as her own fire is kindled, she doesn't dawdle (which is rare, depending on her mood, she likes to make people wait, to want). Dany's always easy to find, probably easier than she'd like to be found, but for Loki, there's not much that's difficult if she's looking. there's a stretch of desert, and in the center the buildings rising abruptly from the sand and stone that was Perdition's Rest. everyone is out and about with their own intentions: the Deemers, the Taraxa, and their mission. Loki's put all of that from her mind, she has something far sweeter to pursue.
when she finds her there's no words exchanged, just a simple grab of the wrist, a juggle of their bodies until they slip behind the nearest ashen wall. with a breathy hum, Loki capturing her lips. in her fearlessness she doesn't seem to care if they're captured, hidden just enough to discourage any casual glances. someone would have to go looking to find them. ]
[ Oh, she thinks dazedly when the kiss comes, the warmth of Loki's mouth loosing a fluttery storm inside her belly. More than once, she had had kisses from Irri, but they had never tasted of passion, leaving Dany feeling even emptier than she had before. Somehow, though, she had never felt ungainly with Irri; here, some part of her fears the ground will slant precariously beneath her feet.
There are Qorral around, surely--bandits, perhaps--but in their rush, their place is private enough. Her hat, loosely-donned to begin with, slides from its perch and falls to hang by drawstring around her neck, spilling a cascade of silver across her shoulders. The height difference is not so pronounced as it is when Loki is in male form, but the goddess is still tall enough to warrant the queen rising on tiptoe in her boots, tugging Loki by the shoulders so that she's standing with her back flush against the wall for support. She feels silly and excited and unbalanced at once, her cheeks flushing in the wintry air. ]
You were quick enough, [ she tells her slyly, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper the words into the corner of Loki's mouth. In female form, as in male form, Loki is a whirlwind, demanding and presumptuous. It is a song she knows, one that twines with her own nature, and it is only the threat of being found in the open that keeps her from hooking a boot playfully around Loki's ankle for closeness. She settles instead for tangling eager, fine-boned fingers into the hair the goddess likes to toss so much. ]
[ Loki always comes like a force of nature, demanding and leaving all at a disarray behind her. it suits her, just as being swept away in her own whims seems to suit her. they're both a tangle of limbs, locked at the fingers, or the elbow as Loki leans in to meet her lips, sloppy and uncaring. ]
And you can still find your voice.
[ when she parts there's a devious curl to her lips, and the low purr in her tone says she means to change that.
the town goes on around them and without them for the moment, the Taraxa and Qorral still needing their attention. for now, they're dismissed for better endeavors, and Loki cares little of what comes of their mission.
the next kiss comes with parted lips and heat, the brush of her long hair against her cheeks. ]
[ Dany manages only a brief huff of amusement, warm and fleeting, before the next kiss comes. Her lips part without thought in answer to a well-liked presence, the initial fluttering in her belly stirring itself into heat. I have grown wanton. The press of the wall is cold against her back, waves of dark and silver hair curtaining their faces. Loki's lips are soft, fuller than they would be if they had belonged to a man, and they are insistent upon hers, eliciting a wanting little sound that breaks in her throat.
Hearing no witnesses around them, the queen hooks a booted leg playfully around Loki's ankle, tugging impatiently. She doesn't wish to break the kiss, but the command is clear, mouth sweetly lost against Loki's own: Closer. ]
[ there's not much that could move Loki if she doesn't want to be moved, but when Dany asks, Loki obliges. she moves her toes inward, steady where Dany flutters. she breathes deeply, pulling back and kissing the first place that her lips rush to meet, which is the corner of her mouth. there's a small chuckle, amused at their secrecy, as well as pleased by it.
Dany doesn't care, and nor does she.
her lips glide up her cheek, her breath wispy and soft against her skin. ]
Have the doubts fled yet?
[ she knows they haven't, but there are enough heady giggles to replace them where the emptiness had once been. ]
[ Once, Daario had tossed a head at her feet, before seizing her into a kiss for all the world to see. She had known then, as she does now, that to be open with her affection is not fitting for a queen. It takes her a moment to realize what was asked; then, she sighs, her lashes fluttering closed at the feel of lips upon her cheek. ]
No, [ she admits breathily. Imprudent it may be, but she cannot care now. There is something exciting about the secrecy. ] Chase them faster.
[ Emboldened, she turns her head and cups the nape of Loki's neck gently, her fingers tangling into black tresses. Her lashes ghosting over the goddess' cheek, the tip of her nose brushing daintily over impossibly smooth skin, she begins to trail slow kisses with swollen lips along her jaw, eagerly tender. Dany doesn't wish to think about herself.
[ being open with affection is to be vulnerable: all three of them know it.
she wonders, briefly, how many might know of this affair, and out of those how many actually care. it could later to be proven a weakness, but she catches herself on so many flutters of her belly that it seems to no longer matter. ]
What tenacious doubts you have ...
[ she says in a sultry whisper, leaning in as Dany leans up, brushing wet kisses against her jaw. with a dip she closes the space between them, catching the corner of her mouth. she keeps the close proximity, refusing to lengthen the space between them. ]
[ Always. The corner of her mouth is met with a kiss, and Dany's breath catches in her throat. This time, she allows the touch to linger, her skin tingling pleasantly at the slow heat between them. Few things in any world can coax her to breathe into the beat of her own heart, but Loki has a knack for arresting her senses, for holding her at a lingering burn.
Her eyes close, and then she turns her head to return the gesture, before nipping very deliberately in a sly confirmation that all of her is tenacious. When she speaks, her voice is thick, the tease low with contained desire. ]
Only to defy you.
[ Her hands are tracing the contours of Loki's body, palms beginning flush at the hips and roving over the curve there as they trail upward. For the moment, propriety can burn. So, too, can anyone who might speak against her open secret. ]
[ she seems to find defying the mistress of defiance somewhat amusing, and there's a little snort that comes out as they kiss. her own body is slim, long, still all limbs and smooth curves. there are points where the change is obvious, and others where it's less so, all wrapped up in the same Loki.
there's a dip into the nip, and a lean into the spot just below her ear, disturbing white locks of hair with her warm breath. ]
Will it defy me if I don't deny you? [ she remarks in a pleasing display of wordplay. ]
[ Dany's hands pause, the spread of her fingers nestling neatly against the gentle crevice of Loki's waist. Her head slopes to the side almost lazily in response to the disturbance, unspoken permission as some of the bright hair falls away from her shoulder. ]
Did you mean to deny me? [ she sounds amused even as her skin lights with electricity, returning a question with another question. ] You know I cannot think when you interrupt.
[ So, no. Some part of her is listening for anyone who might be near, her half-lidded gaze outward and to her right, but she gives no indication that she wishes to leave yet. ]
the fabric is thin between the hoodie and her skin, warm even though there's still a chill in the air. she's a frost giant, or she's an Asgardian, or she's both, somewhere. neither frost giants nor Asgardians think much of the cold. ]
That's the best part about it.
[ catching people unaware was a point of pride for her. she enjoyed reaction, especially if it was distinct and impassioned. she leans in, her breath labored against her ear, lips brushing against skin. ]
Who needs to think?
[ painted fingernails slide just behind her neck, offering the pleasant linger of flesh. ]
[ --een, she tries to tell her, but her skin is so sensitive that the last part of the word escapes her throat in a soft, involuntary gasp. One hand slips from her waist to cup the hollow in the goddess' lower back, holding it possessively. Something stirs at her, demanding friction, and with another sidelong look beyond her shoulder, Dany hikes up one of her legs, wrapping it as closely to Loki's waist as she can. Beneath a low-lidded gaze, she looks positively self-satisfied, though her belly is fluttering with a thousand wings. ]
You are very warm, [ she breathes into her hair, as though that is why she's trapped her. ]
[ when the first part of her word falls short, Loki smiles in smug satisfaction against her skin. when she shifts Loki responds, slipping dark nailed fingers against her leg to keep her from gliding down. ]
I don't get cold. [ a pause, and she rethinks that, her brows knitting at the center pleasantly. ] Well, that's partly a lie, there are places that get cold, even to those of us who have blood of the frost giants. Hel, for instance, where all the dead go.
But it's cold for another reason.
[ there's a light playfulness to her voice despite the talk of the dead, making it sound more enticing to keep the warmth than it would be to be a victim of the cold. ]
[ Her leg's grip tightens at the touch, an anticipatory sort of pleasure. Dany contemplates using the goddess' shoulders as leverage, leaping up to sling the other leg about Loki's waist. Below her belly, the need for friction grows. ]
I do not wish to speak of Hel. [ Blunt, the message is made clear: Stop speaking. There is destruction within her, as there always is. If she cannot fly away and burn, she desires burning of another kind. ] I want your mouth. [ She is whispering now. ] I want you open for me.
[ How is that, for semi-public conversation? She nuzzles at an ear, catching a lobe between her teeth. ]
[ well, that's certainly the opposite of subtle. a little smug look of satisfaction crosses her expression, as if there was something in this kind of heated desire that she meant to have for herself. they're woven together like a cloak, and any means that Dany uses to entangle herself further will only be met by invitation. ]
As you will. [ it's an outlet better than that of destruction, in Loki's perspective. there's little else that compares. ] We're at risk for voyeurs here, and as much as the high probability of being caught is welcomed ... [ the word comes out almost like a sigh. ] I'll have no interruptions.
[ and she takes her wrist and tugs her along the trail back to the church. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The laugh is short, and less full than it would have been, had she been in good humor before now--but it comes all the same. ]
Find me. [ The command is pitched low, coyly, tinged with redirected heat she had felt for her impending destruction. ] If you are not quick, I may grow impatient.
no subject
When have I ever not been quick? [ to get what she wants, anyway. ] I'm wounded.
[ but she likes that tone of voice, the burning embers that threaten to become full flame. renewed as her own fire is kindled, she doesn't dawdle (which is rare, depending on her mood, she likes to make people wait, to want). Dany's always easy to find, probably easier than she'd like to be found, but for Loki, there's not much that's difficult if she's looking. there's a stretch of desert, and in the center the buildings rising abruptly from the sand and stone that was Perdition's Rest. everyone is out and about with their own intentions: the Deemers, the Taraxa, and their mission. Loki's put all of that from her mind, she has something far sweeter to pursue.
when she finds her there's no words exchanged, just a simple grab of the wrist, a juggle of their bodies until they slip behind the nearest ashen wall. with a breathy hum, Loki capturing her lips. in her fearlessness she doesn't seem to care if they're captured, hidden just enough to discourage any casual glances. someone would have to go looking to find them. ]
no subject
There are Qorral around, surely--bandits, perhaps--but in their rush, their place is private enough. Her hat, loosely-donned to begin with, slides from its perch and falls to hang by drawstring around her neck, spilling a cascade of silver across her shoulders. The height difference is not so pronounced as it is when Loki is in male form, but the goddess is still tall enough to warrant the queen rising on tiptoe in her boots, tugging Loki by the shoulders so that she's standing with her back flush against the wall for support. She feels silly and excited and unbalanced at once, her cheeks flushing in the wintry air. ]
You were quick enough, [ she tells her slyly, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper the words into the corner of Loki's mouth. In female form, as in male form, Loki is a whirlwind, demanding and presumptuous. It is a song she knows, one that twines with her own nature, and it is only the threat of being found in the open that keeps her from hooking a boot playfully around Loki's ankle for closeness. She settles instead for tangling eager, fine-boned fingers into the hair the goddess likes to toss so much. ]
no subject
And you can still find your voice.
[ when she parts there's a devious curl to her lips, and the low purr in her tone says she means to change that.
the town goes on around them and without them for the moment, the Taraxa and Qorral still needing their attention. for now, they're dismissed for better endeavors, and Loki cares little of what comes of their mission.
the next kiss comes with parted lips and heat, the brush of her long hair against her cheeks. ]
cw: nsfw probably
Hearing no witnesses around them, the queen hooks a booted leg playfully around Loki's ankle, tugging impatiently. She doesn't wish to break the kiss, but the command is clear, mouth sweetly lost against Loki's own: Closer. ]
no subject
Dany doesn't care, and nor does she.
her lips glide up her cheek, her breath wispy and soft against her skin. ]
Have the doubts fled yet?
[ she knows they haven't, but there are enough heady giggles to replace them where the emptiness had once been. ]
no subject
No, [ she admits breathily. Imprudent it may be, but she cannot care now. There is something exciting about the secrecy. ] Chase them faster.
[ Emboldened, she turns her head and cups the nape of Loki's neck gently, her fingers tangling into black tresses. Her lashes ghosting over the goddess' cheek, the tip of her nose brushing daintily over impossibly smooth skin, she begins to trail slow kisses with swollen lips along her jaw, eagerly tender. Dany doesn't wish to think about herself.
She doesn't wish to think at all. ]
no subject
she wonders, briefly, how many might know of this affair, and out of those how many actually care. it could later to be proven a weakness, but she catches herself on so many flutters of her belly that it seems to no longer matter. ]
What tenacious doubts you have ...
[ she says in a sultry whisper, leaning in as Dany leans up, brushing wet kisses against her jaw. with a dip she closes the space between them, catching the corner of her mouth. she keeps the close proximity, refusing to lengthen the space between them. ]
no subject
Her eyes close, and then she turns her head to return the gesture, before nipping very deliberately in a sly confirmation that all of her is tenacious. When she speaks, her voice is thick, the tease low with contained desire. ]
Only to defy you.
[ Her hands are tracing the contours of Loki's body, palms beginning flush at the hips and roving over the curve there as they trail upward. For the moment, propriety can burn. So, too, can anyone who might speak against her open secret. ]
no subject
there's a dip into the nip, and a lean into the spot just below her ear, disturbing white locks of hair with her warm breath. ]
Will it defy me if I don't deny you? [ she remarks in a pleasing display of wordplay. ]
no subject
Did you mean to deny me? [ she sounds amused even as her skin lights with electricity, returning a question with another question. ] You know I cannot think when you interrupt.
[ So, no. Some part of her is listening for anyone who might be near, her half-lidded gaze outward and to her right, but she gives no indication that she wishes to leave yet. ]
no subject
the fabric is thin between the hoodie and her skin, warm even though there's still a chill in the air. she's a frost giant, or she's an Asgardian, or she's both, somewhere. neither frost giants nor Asgardians think much of the cold. ]
That's the best part about it.
[ catching people unaware was a point of pride for her. she enjoyed reaction, especially if it was distinct and impassioned. she leans in, her breath labored against her ear, lips brushing against skin. ]
Who needs to think?
[ painted fingernails slide just behind her neck, offering the pleasant linger of flesh. ]
no subject
[ --een, she tries to tell her, but her skin is so sensitive that the last part of the word escapes her throat in a soft, involuntary gasp. One hand slips from her waist to cup the hollow in the goddess' lower back, holding it possessively. Something stirs at her, demanding friction, and with another sidelong look beyond her shoulder, Dany hikes up one of her legs, wrapping it as closely to Loki's waist as she can. Beneath a low-lidded gaze, she looks positively self-satisfied, though her belly is fluttering with a thousand wings. ]
You are very warm, [ she breathes into her hair, as though that is why she's trapped her. ]
no subject
I don't get cold. [ a pause, and she rethinks that, her brows knitting at the center pleasantly. ] Well, that's partly a lie, there are places that get cold, even to those of us who have blood of the frost giants. Hel, for instance, where all the dead go.
But it's cold for another reason.
[ there's a light playfulness to her voice despite the talk of the dead, making it sound more enticing to keep the warmth than it would be to be a victim of the cold. ]
lmao i'm sorry, she is trash
I do not wish to speak of Hel. [ Blunt, the message is made clear: Stop speaking. There is destruction within her, as there always is. If she cannot fly away and burn, she desires burning of another kind. ] I want your mouth. [ She is whispering now. ] I want you open for me.
[ How is that, for semi-public conversation? She nuzzles at an ear, catching a lobe between her teeth. ]
boards the nsfw train
As you will. [ it's an outlet better than that of destruction, in Loki's perspective. there's little else that compares. ] We're at risk for voyeurs here, and as much as the high probability of being caught is welcomed ... [ the word comes out almost like a sigh. ] I'll have no interruptions.
[ and she takes her wrist and tugs her along the trail back to the church. ]