[ 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
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. ]