I'm not worried about the clothes you idiot. I want you in here with me. Dressed or not.
[ She shakes her head at him like he's the most ridiculous creature on the planet, because he has to be to be worrying about what she wants in bed and not where she is now. ]
I did come here for a bath after all. I'm not going to get out of it as soon as I got in, so if you want to faff, do it while the waters hot.
Ah. [ His eyebrows go up once more, then down again, as he glances at his clothes. He did call him an idiot, and he is entirely too enamored of that fact. He's also. Too overdressed, clearly, and the tub can fit the two of them...
It's not really a question, then, is it?
He leans in for one more kiss before he pulls back and begins the process of unbuttoning and unclasping his clothes at various points. He stops, occasionally, to move forward and kiss her again.
Eventually, he's naked, rather unashamed of that fact, and prepared to climb in the tub with her. Mostly this takes patience and a decent sense of balance to achieve success; Loki has the latter but the former? Not so much. Still. The water is hot and only slightly displaced by his climbing in (he refuses to fall over and smack his head on something, there have been enough injuries in his immediate circle thanks), but instead of situating himself at the very opposite end of her Loki instead draws his body the length of the tub, hovering over her using just his arms, long fingers wrapped around the edge of the bathtub, one hand still covering hers. ]
[ At his 'Ah' she scrunches up her nose and nods, trying not to laugh at how completely his mind seems to seize up at the suggestion. She cant help but wonder if he always this endearingly awkward, if his other lovers look at him with this same kind of heart aching enjoyment that she does now. The way that his thoughts are clear on his face and the delay in how his limbs respond makes her press her lips together and fight back a laugh, and she sinks a bit back into the water after he kisses her to just...watch.
The layers and rich fabrics of course look more right on him than the TVA uniform she met him in, but watching him shift and peel and unclasp and shrug off each layer leaves her feeling more and more hot in the face, each kiss he steals between tasks more lazy and lavish than the last. When he finally is undressed and turns to her she tries to keep her expression neutral as her eyes crawl up from his toes to his face, and then shifts to give him space in the tub. Or would, if his hand hadn't clasped over hers again, keeping her in one place as his knees slip by her thighs and the water sloshes around her shoulders with his addition to the tub. The bubbles stick to her curls as she leans back against the curved edge, and she lets her free hand reach up and tuck some of his dark hair behind one ear, lips quirking slightly to the side in humor. The nervousness she feels she hopes stays firmly beneath the surface. ]
Who ever was running intake back in the TVA for you probably will never get THAT out of their heads, you do realize?
[ Given the way that Loki feels as if every single butterfly he's encountered in his life has taken flight in the pit of his stomach as she brushes his hair back behind his ear, perhaps he could be forgiven for not noticing that she has nervousness in this moment. Then again, she is better at masking her feelings behind an air of neutral humor than he is around her, so there's always the chance he never would have seen it even if he'd been looking for it.
He tilts his head into the touch, shutting his eyes briefly. The hand not on top of hers slips beneath the surface of the water, fingertips brushing against her hip on that side. It takes a little bit of shifting, but he manages to get one of his thighs in between hers, and that hand flattens out to run his palm and fingers across her skin from knee to hip. When Loki opens his eyes again, they're full of lust and warmth towards her in equally intense measure. ]
I should hope not. [ He's very proud of his body; one of the few things about himself that he takes some amount of vanity in no matter what turn his mood has taken. The warmth of the water combined with the closeness to her isn't doing anything to minimize his arousal, certainly.
Later, he'll allow himself to grow angry again with the TVA for putting a child through that process in the first place. For now, there are more pressing needs and desires. Like kissing Sylvie again, all tongues and teeth, and sliding his hand on to the inside of her thigh, a slow progressing up from the curve of her knee towards the center of her body. ]
[ This probably is such a mistake, really, to let herself give into this. The happiness of it, the heat of the water and the pressure of his hand over hers, and the way they have to shift so he can fit his leg between hers, the weight of his body against her leg, his hands on her skin. The world itself feels smaller than it's ever been, just this space existing in all of it. No TVA to worry about, no constantly ticking time limit, no trying to find a middle ground with someone who was certainly heading to death.
The way actually sees her when he leans in to kiss her again is as potent as the hand running up her leg, and she works her trapped hand free as she wraps an arm around his neck, kissing him back with barely contained need. As his fingers work up the inside of her leg she lets them fall apart further to give him room, a throb of arousal reverberating through her toes as she runs nails down his chest. His skin is soft and hot under her calloused fingertips, and she breaks the kiss only to exhale his name --Loki...-- and then press sharp kisses at his chin, the curve of his jaw, the edge of his earlobe.
He's so much bigger than her, the broadness of his shoulders blocking some of the light from above, and her wandering hand works down his abdomen, nails sharp and firm on his skin until the range of her arm brings her up short just at his hip and then works back up his back, pulling him closer as she does. ]
[ Loki is not thinking about whether or not this is a good idea. He's not worried about whether or not it will complicate matters between the two of them, or between him and Alexandrie (it will, certainly). He's thinking instead of the calluses on her hands, and the softness of her inner thighs, and the dreams he's had repeatedly of the two of them in a mining shack on Lamentis-1, of fighting and fucking by turns.
This moment only contains some of the frenetic energy of those dreams, but still. Her kisses are a powerful aphrodisiac combined with the smell of the bath. The water is warm against his skin and the places his body makes contact with hers feel electrified. There's just the edge of pain beneath her fingernails against his skin, and it drives his hand even more inward once she shifts her legs open for him. It's a simple thing, to rotate his wrist so that he can sink two fingers in, brushing his thumb against the bundle of nerves just above where his fingers disappear into her body. He sighs at the feeling of her muscles tightening and relaxing around his fingers and nudges her thigh with his leg in the hopes that she'll hook it around his hips.
He presses his face into the space between her neck and her shoulder, breathing deep but immediately laughing a little as a bit of water splashes against his face and gets up his nose. So of course, he has to bite her. Clearly this is all her fault. ]
You promised me faffing about, [ he reminds Sylvie, mouth coming up towards her ears as the fingers inside of her move separately and then together. ] So don't be impatient.
[ Even if this wasn't a new body, it has been quite a while since she let herself indulge in the physical, years probably, since the start of her final endgame against the TVA. The mission had taken priority over anything and everything in the end, and she can't remember the last time she's really indulged on anything but the thought of revenge.
Loki's long, thick, beautiful fingers pressing up and inside of her now pulls a shaky sigh out of her as her eyes flutter closed. His thumb on her clit is like touching a battery, and it doesn't take much urging for her to wrap her leg over his hip as she arches into his touch, the bath sloshing around them as she rocks experimentally on his fingers.
Her hands roam back up and over his shoulders again as he buries his face into her neck, enjoying the softness of his nose against her skin, the way that his laugh makes her stomach flip and insides clench and-- then he bites her. It's a delicious shock of pain and she yelps, nails digging in as her eyes fly back open. Her gasp melts into a little whine as the flush of adrenaline buffers against the sensation of him moving his fingers inside her, and it sends her heart up into her ears from the intensity of it. ]
I never promised you anything.
[ She turns her face to his as he speaks against her ear, slipping a hand into his thick dark hair to curl up a handful into a fist and give him a little punishing tug back enough to his eyes; a sing-song-like amusement and challenge in her voice. ]
I said if you wanted faffing you'd have to come in to get it. Now if you want me to be patient? Then, you're going to have to make me.
[ If anyone believed Loki not to be masochistic in his tendencies they would be absolved from those beliefs in the moment Sylvie pulls his hair— Loki laughs, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments, but she's looking at him and he must look back, so he does, with pupils blown so wide that the color of his irises is merely a thin ring around depths of blackness. His breath comes out in little pants, and his fingers continue moving inside of her.
It's a challenge, clearly, and one which he expects to fully rise to and then spectacuarly fail at. Sylvie is the best of the two of them, by his measure, and while he can be patient it is not a virtue he's often blessed with. She'll likely rather easily wear him down, he knows, and that's fine by him. ]
Ah, that's true, [ he laughs out, a flash of teeth to go with the pleasure pooling in his stomach at her hold on his hair. ] Then I suppose I'll just have to do my level best.
[ Does he have any idea how he'll make her be patient? Not unless they use a chair and some rope (and while he is in possession of both, they're in the bath so... he's not going to climb out and fetch those things). His thumb continues it's relentless movements against her skin and nerve endings, hoping to bring her to a peak before they get much further. ]
[ There's something overwhelmingly pleasant about the way he looks down at her, eyes dark and his thick curls tangled around her hand, that makes heat flush down to her toes, as powerful as his hand between her thighs.
His level best? She'll have to meet that then.
A little laugh slips out of her, and she pulls an arm from his shoulders to grasp the wrist below the water, pulling it up and using the grip on his hair to upend him to the side. It's a relatively smooth motion, ending with Loki beneath her, thighs on either side of his waist and only a little water and bubbles on the floor around them. ]
Your best better get better.
[ She touches her tongue to her teeth as she grins at him, her damp hair sticking to her neck and face as she releases his hair, dragging both hands up his chest to cup his face, leaning in to kiss him hard again. She's far more comfortable like this, and far more of his skin is accessible like this, water sloshing at her waist as she presses up against him, tipping his face to the side so that she can work hot kisses down his neck, worrying the skin at his collar bone with his teeth. ]
I've wanted to taste you... since Lamentis. [ She murmurs between kisses and bites, wiggling until she gets her heels beneath his thighs to keep herself anchored. ] But you were too drunk and annoying.
[ It's smooth and quite nearly flawless, the way that she turns their positions entirely around. Is it her skill or her grip in his hair that has him laughing, face flushed, hard against her beneath the surface of the water? He wouldn't really be able to answer that question if it were posed to him right now, but the answer is 'both, of course.' ]
And what if it doesn't? What if I'm just second fiddle to your prowess?
[ She moves his face so that she has better access to his neck and Loki groans, hands at her waist and gripping firmly. ]
I can think of worse things to be, surely.
[ Another groan and his eyes shut against the influx of sensory experiences between her, her teeth, and the water. ]
I dream about it sometimes. Lamentis. [ In his dreams, he's not drunk, and she's there with him. ] I wanted you then too, but I was too sad.
[ Gods, having him pliant and pinned, the way he groans and grips at her-- all of it floods her with pleasure and arousal and pride in a way that leaves her almost light headed. Perhaps her desire for control is a problem. Perhaps she doesn't give a damn.
His little comments make her smile against his skin, her nails dancing back down his neck, over the sparce hair on his chest, and down the muscles of over his stomach and then back up again, and only pause when he mentions how he had felt.
Sylvie sits back then, frowning a bit as she cups his face again, holding his head still as her eyes roam his features. ]
[ The question and the pivoting attention are both unexpected, somehow, though in the next moment Loki thinks that perhaps he should have known better and expected it anyway. ]
Sometimes, [ he answers honestly, quietly, because it's strange. Being here, being human, knowing he'll never see his family again most likely. That his mother's voice is relegated entirely to memory and nothing else. ] Not right now.
[ He's torn beneath her scrutiny. Part of him, the part that is quick to suffer, to cry, to want to crawl beneath blankets and not emerge for entire days at a time wants nothing more than to be seen. Acknowledged.
The rest of him would like to have sex with Sylvie, right now, very badly, thank you ]
[ She repeats, eyebrows furrowed, watching him for any sign of a lie. Being sad sometimes, that she can accept, can understand. Accept for him, of course. Herself? That pain and sadness she keeps wedged so deeply that it's almost a black hole at this point. There's no releasing that bomb out into the world without destroying herself in the process.
She'll take 'not right now' though, as reason to kiss him again. It's softer this time, less teeth and and more meaning, one that transitions back to passion after a few soft breaks as she shifts as to trap his erection between them and grind up against him softly. ]
I want to make keep you this way.
[ Spoken against his lips, Sylvie lets her hands drift again, tucking hair back out of his face, easing down his shoulders, finding where his hands rested on her waist and encouraging them to help set the pressure and rhythm of her movements. ]
Here...with me...like this. In the present... and not sad.
No, [ he murmurs, reiterating. He's not sad, now, naked and wanting beneath her. Cannot imagine a world in which it would be true, and perhaps that is just the limits of his own imagination at work, but here they are.
He is in awe, mostly. Of her. Obviously.
For Sylvie to say that she means to keep him this way implies she means to keep him. That this is more than a once and never again sort of event. Perhaps it is a thin sort of promise; perhaps he'd be better served just asking. But she's kissing him, first gentle and now not, and grinding against him, and he's not asking her a blessed thing. He's too busy guiding her hips over his, increasing the friction and the pressure but not the pace, to cause her to draw out a hiss and a curse as she moves along his body. ]
I wouldn't stop you. [ Earnest. Honest. ] I like the idea of being kept by you. [ A nip at her bottom lip, another groan as she slides downward. No one is surprised by his admission, certainly. ]
I think [ She drawls out, her lips now a pleasant shade of red from his kisses and little bites, her breath coming in a little heavier as the sounds he makes hit her stomach and makes it flutter. It's really hard to tell which she likes more, the way he submits to her, the way he looks at her like she's a diety, or the way his cock feels slick and hot and heavy between them as she moves across it. ] that you just like to the idea of being kept.
[ This is taking longer already than She's used to, her desire to enjoy this moment warring with her wanting to speed up, wanting to fit him inside her already. To bring them both to that peak.
Sylvie sits back a bit and reaches between them to grasp the length of him, the water sloshing up against the ceramic as she gives him a few lazy experimental strokes. He's thick and long and heavy, but nothing she cant handle, and a teasing grin stretches her lips as she bobs her eyebrows at him. ]
I'm going to fuck you now Loki. Unless you have any objections.
Perhaps, [ he purrs out, but there's laughter beneath that, a grin of his own to match hers. Yes, he likes the idea of being kept. It doesn't take long of knowing him in particular ways to figure this out, but also, he knows that he is very different from Sylvie in that regard.
She does not want to be kept. She can barely tolerate his admiration at times.
He also knows he's a difficult sort of creature to try and keep. Clearly. Much in the same way that she is a difficult creature to admire. Much in the same way they are both difficult to be close to in any lasting way, for different reasons, to the same end.
But Sylvie is touching him and he's not focused on his strong desire to be kept; it's losing out against his constant and powerful desire to be touched, admired, seen. Fucking, and being fucked, if he's being honest. So he breathes, swallows hard, nods. ]
I have no objections. I would, in fact, say please.
I would like that. [ It's breathy, almost as though she's recognizing only in that moment how much she likes hearing it come from his mouth. ] To hear you say it.
[ Impatience wins over though, heart pounding in her ears and her stomach in knots just over the sheer desire for him-- she's never felt like this with anyone before. A want for release? yes. The desire for a body? Absolutely. But nothing quite like the way every cell in her body throbs at the idea of finally being able to have him.
Sylvie shifts, bracing herself with one arm on the tub's lip as she slides the head of his cock through her slick folds-- the water doesn't help with lubrication really but she's so ready for him that it doesn't quite matter-- and then slowly fits him inside. He's big, and it's been god even knows how long for her, her new body fluttering already as she pauses a moment, eyes closed and lips parted as she just lets herself adjust, trying not to be already overwhelmed by sensation.
She may not be anything near inexperienced, but this was definitely a first, being on edge just from this.
A little wiggle comes next, and she breathes out his name as she presses down slowly but firmly until she's taken as much of him as she can. The arm on the tub moves to press into his chest, nails digging in just slightly as she moves on him once, and then again, and then again with a little whimper of delight. ]
[ One hand has settled at her side, long fingers curving around the shape of her waist, the swell leading to her hips; the other traces a path from her waist, across her abdomen, brushing against a nipple, upward across her clavicle and further upward still in order to cradle the side of her face as she moves. To go from the warm wetness of the bath to the warm wetness of her body hadn't been abrupt, but it had been quite a pleasant shock to his system, and Loki has to breathe through it as she settles and then moves.
The hand at her waist makes its way across her skin to cup one side of her ass as he leans forward to kiss her on the next downward motion. ]
Please, [ he says again, voice rough with the control it takes not to lose himself in her almost embarrassingly quickly. He licks at her lips in one moment, drawing the bottom in between his teeth in the next. ]Please, [ and he brings his hips up this time to meet her as she moves. ]
The way he says that word, the way his voice grates and vibrates up his throat, it leaves her feeling a bit lightheaded from the flash of pleasure it brings. It doesn't help of course, his shifting to kiss her, the change in angle it causes, the way he feels moving inside of her. She's always been good at seeking out her orgasm quick and easy, but this was like trying to hold back a freight train. His hands moving and grasping at her is like tinder on the fire, and she whines into his mouth as he leans in to kiss her. Sylvie wants this to last, wants to drag out every pleasant tingle and burn to the highest arc. She's wanted this too long to let it end too quickly.
His hips snap up into hers, punctured with that word, and she whimpers in his mouth in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she moves with him. His nips and licks are met with her own as she finds a rhythm, nails digging into his back as she rides him with abandon. ]
[ He never promised he'd be fair. She said she'd like it. Did she not expect he would indulge her in whatever way he could?
As she whimpers he smiles against her lips, against her teeth, breathing in and out as she sets their pace. Loki groans, kisses and teeth straying from her mouth, brushing against her cheekbones, down along the edge of her jaw, to the side of her throat where he worries a small mark into the skin where her neck and her shoulder meet. He kisses the bruise after it blooms, traveling back to her mouth, arms shifting to hold her closer to him. ]
Sylvie.[ Her name is a prayer, a blessing, on his lips as they move together. The water around them sloshes, bubbles falling over the edge of the bathtub onto the tile. ]
[ The way he pulls her closer forces her to release him with one arm, grasping the side of the tub again to maintain some leverage as they move. It forces her to move slower than she'd like, the way that the water sloshes around them and destabilizes her movements; but in a way its better, she can focus on the feeling of his mouth on her neck, the way he marks her makes her want to mark him in return--though with more teeth.
That'd have to wait though, because he's groaning out her name and she's feeling herself spiral, short breathy sounds escaping her as she finds herself too far gone for real words as she chases that high with him. Sylvie digs her nails hard into his shoulder, crunching her eyes tights as she reaches for him, that magic they shared and touched back in the carriage. The thing that only they shared. That live wire that makes the air around them faintly grow green when she touches it, just bringing every touch, every pull of his body in hers, every brush against her nerves, up a thousand fold. It just felt so goddamn good- ]
Oh Fuck Loki!
[ She tumbles over the edge then with a breaking squeak at the end of his name- giving up on holding on to the tub to cling to him. It's strong enough to white out her vision, hard enough to leave the world swirling around them. ]
[ Loki had every intention of outlasting Sylvie in this.
Not, it should be noted, because of any conscious decision-making on his part. It was more of a confluence of several true things. That it has not been as long for him as it has been for Sylvie had a lot to do with it, alongside a constant desire to wear a sexual partner into the mattress, so to speak.
And yet. When she touches their shared root of magic it overwhelms him, in the best way, sends him scrambling for control of his senses as the illusion of the same flowers from the carriage burst forth on the tiled floor beneath the bathtub and climb the furniture, the walls, the ceiling in rapid succession. She clings and cries out and he keeps moving, breathing against her skin, holding back his own climax with a rapidly fraying control. ]
That is what we're doing. [ Laughter. A nip against her skin. ]
[ It's absolutely breathless, still riding the waves of her orgasm as she shifts to help him, to draw them out, not at all satisfied with what she's gotten so far. It feels so good, this connection they have. Terrifying and overwhelming and delicious, better than any lay she's had in the stolen moments she's been able to satisfy her need all these years. Sylvie grips his shoulder with one hand and the tub again with the other to focus on him now, on bringing him to his peak as well. After that? Well. ]
I hope you don't have any plans for the rest of the day. Because I'm not planning on going back tonight anymore.
[ He had wanted faffing, and honestly that's about all she can think of now. Taking him apart as many times as she can and letting him do the same. ]
My schedule is... [ A groan. If he thought he had a difficult time riding out her orgasm at the beginning, her chasing the edges of it and fucking him through it — as that is definitely what is happening here — will definitely be his undoing. ]Blessedly open.
[ He kisses her then, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth with a grin and another groan. The illusionary flowers burst into blossom, wither, die, are reborn again in little flares of green and gold magic as his hips snap upward without any sense of rhythm or pattern, merely rising to meet her as swiftly as possible with every thrust. When his control finally snaps it's very sudden; his hands at her waist tighten and he's left gasping and cursing against her mouth as each small flower bursts into a shower of sparks around them. ]
[ The kiss pulls a little sound out of her as he starts to lose rhythm, the pulse of their intertwined magic leaving sparks behind her eyes-- ones she quickly realizes is also still filling the room as she opens them again. It's beautiful, the flowers curling through their lifecycles, and she's half distracted by the actual artistry of the illusion when his hands tighten around her waist. And then all she can pay attention to is the way he comes apart under her, the way his mouth moves against hers as he whimpers out those curses. The flex of his muscles in his arms and shoulders and back as she holds him close again, swallowing his words with desperate kisses; she can feel his pleasure in echoes through their magic, and she holds him tight as the flowers burst into flecks of light around them. ]
Loki... [ Her arms slowly loosen after a moment, her skin prickling with goosepimples from the cold air and the delicious floating buzz of their release-- backed by that still humming connection. ] Holy...shit.
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[ She shakes her head at him like he's the most ridiculous creature on the planet, because he has to be to be worrying about what she wants in bed and not where she is now. ]
I did come here for a bath after all. I'm not going to get out of it as soon as I got in, so if you want to faff, do it while the waters hot.
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It's not really a question, then, is it?
He leans in for one more kiss before he pulls back and begins the process of unbuttoning and unclasping his clothes at various points. He stops, occasionally, to move forward and kiss her again.
Eventually, he's naked, rather unashamed of that fact, and prepared to climb in the tub with her. Mostly this takes patience and a decent sense of balance to achieve success; Loki has the latter but the former? Not so much. Still. The water is hot and only slightly displaced by his climbing in (he refuses to fall over and smack his head on something, there have been enough injuries in his immediate circle thanks), but instead of situating himself at the very opposite end of her Loki instead draws his body the length of the tub, hovering over her using just his arms, long fingers wrapped around the edge of the bathtub, one hand still covering hers. ]
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The layers and rich fabrics of course look more right on him than the TVA uniform she met him in, but watching him shift and peel and unclasp and shrug off each layer leaves her feeling more and more hot in the face, each kiss he steals between tasks more lazy and lavish than the last. When he finally is undressed and turns to her she tries to keep her expression neutral as her eyes crawl up from his toes to his face, and then shifts to give him space in the tub. Or would, if his hand hadn't clasped over hers again, keeping her in one place as his knees slip by her thighs and the water sloshes around her shoulders with his addition to the tub. The bubbles stick to her curls as she leans back against the curved edge, and she lets her free hand reach up and tuck some of his dark hair behind one ear, lips quirking slightly to the side in humor. The nervousness she feels she hopes stays firmly beneath the surface. ]
Who ever was running intake back in the TVA for you probably will never get THAT out of their heads, you do realize?
[ She certainly wont. ]
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He tilts his head into the touch, shutting his eyes briefly. The hand not on top of hers slips beneath the surface of the water, fingertips brushing against her hip on that side. It takes a little bit of shifting, but he manages to get one of his thighs in between hers, and that hand flattens out to run his palm and fingers across her skin from knee to hip. When Loki opens his eyes again, they're full of lust and warmth towards her in equally intense measure. ]
I should hope not. [ He's very proud of his body; one of the few things about himself that he takes some amount of vanity in no matter what turn his mood has taken. The warmth of the water combined with the closeness to her isn't doing anything to minimize his arousal, certainly.
Later, he'll allow himself to grow angry again with the TVA for putting a child through that process in the first place. For now, there are more pressing needs and desires. Like kissing Sylvie again, all tongues and teeth, and sliding his hand on to the inside of her thigh, a slow progressing up from the curve of her knee towards the center of her body. ]
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The way actually sees her when he leans in to kiss her again is as potent as the hand running up her leg, and she works her trapped hand free as she wraps an arm around his neck, kissing him back with barely contained need. As his fingers work up the inside of her leg she lets them fall apart further to give him room, a throb of arousal reverberating through her toes as she runs nails down his chest. His skin is soft and hot under her calloused fingertips, and she breaks the kiss only to exhale his name --Loki...-- and then press sharp kisses at his chin, the curve of his jaw, the edge of his earlobe.
He's so much bigger than her, the broadness of his shoulders blocking some of the light from above, and her wandering hand works down his abdomen, nails sharp and firm on his skin until the range of her arm brings her up short just at his hip and then works back up his back, pulling him closer as she does. ]
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This moment only contains some of the frenetic energy of those dreams, but still. Her kisses are a powerful aphrodisiac combined with the smell of the bath. The water is warm against his skin and the places his body makes contact with hers feel electrified. There's just the edge of pain beneath her fingernails against his skin, and it drives his hand even more inward once she shifts her legs open for him. It's a simple thing, to rotate his wrist so that he can sink two fingers in, brushing his thumb against the bundle of nerves just above where his fingers disappear into her body. He sighs at the feeling of her muscles tightening and relaxing around his fingers and nudges her thigh with his leg in the hopes that she'll hook it around his hips.
He presses his face into the space between her neck and her shoulder, breathing deep but immediately laughing a little as a bit of water splashes against his face and gets up his nose. So of course, he has to bite her. Clearly this is all her fault. ]
You promised me faffing about, [ he reminds Sylvie, mouth coming up towards her ears as the fingers inside of her move separately and then together. ] So don't be impatient.
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Loki's long, thick, beautiful fingers pressing up and inside of her now pulls a shaky sigh out of her as her eyes flutter closed. His thumb on her clit is like touching a battery, and it doesn't take much urging for her to wrap her leg over his hip as she arches into his touch, the bath sloshing around them as she rocks experimentally on his fingers.
Her hands roam back up and over his shoulders again as he buries his face into her neck, enjoying the softness of his nose against her skin, the way that his laugh makes her stomach flip and insides clench and-- then he bites her. It's a delicious shock of pain and she yelps, nails digging in as her eyes fly back open. Her gasp melts into a little whine as the flush of adrenaline buffers against the sensation of him moving his fingers inside her, and it sends her heart up into her ears from the intensity of it. ]
I never promised you anything.
[ She turns her face to his as he speaks against her ear, slipping a hand into his thick dark hair to curl up a handful into a fist and give him a little punishing tug back enough to his eyes; a sing-song-like amusement and challenge in her voice. ]
I said if you wanted faffing you'd have to come in to get it. Now if you want me to be patient? Then, you're going to have to make me.
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It's a challenge, clearly, and one which he expects to fully rise to and then spectacuarly fail at. Sylvie is the best of the two of them, by his measure, and while he can be patient it is not a virtue he's often blessed with. She'll likely rather easily wear him down, he knows, and that's fine by him. ]
Ah, that's true, [ he laughs out, a flash of teeth to go with the pleasure pooling in his stomach at her hold on his hair. ] Then I suppose I'll just have to do my level best.
[ Does he have any idea how he'll make her be patient? Not unless they use a chair and some rope (and while he is in possession of both, they're in the bath so... he's not going to climb out and fetch those things). His thumb continues it's relentless movements against her skin and nerve endings, hoping to bring her to a peak before they get much further. ]
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His level best? She'll have to meet that then.
A little laugh slips out of her, and she pulls an arm from his shoulders to grasp the wrist below the water, pulling it up and using the grip on his hair to upend him to the side. It's a relatively smooth motion, ending with Loki beneath her, thighs on either side of his waist and only a little water and bubbles on the floor around them. ]
Your best better get better.
[ She touches her tongue to her teeth as she grins at him, her damp hair sticking to her neck and face as she releases his hair, dragging both hands up his chest to cup his face, leaning in to kiss him hard again. She's far more comfortable like this, and far more of his skin is accessible like this, water sloshing at her waist as she presses up against him, tipping his face to the side so that she can work hot kisses down his neck, worrying the skin at his collar bone with his teeth. ]
I've wanted to taste you... since Lamentis. [ She murmurs between kisses and bites, wiggling until she gets her heels beneath his thighs to keep herself anchored. ] But you were too drunk and annoying.
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And what if it doesn't? What if I'm just second fiddle to your prowess?
[ She moves his face so that she has better access to his neck and Loki groans, hands at her waist and gripping firmly. ]
I can think of worse things to be, surely.
[ Another groan and his eyes shut against the influx of sensory experiences between her, her teeth, and the water. ]
I dream about it sometimes. Lamentis. [ In his dreams, he's not drunk, and she's there with him. ] I wanted you then too, but I was too sad.
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His little comments make her smile against his skin, her nails dancing back down his neck, over the sparce hair on his chest, and down the muscles of over his stomach and then back up again, and only pause when he mentions how he had felt.
Sylvie sits back then, frowning a bit as she cups his face again, holding his head still as her eyes roam his features. ]
Are you still sad?
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Sometimes, [ he answers honestly, quietly, because it's strange. Being here, being human, knowing he'll never see his family again most likely. That his mother's voice is relegated entirely to memory and nothing else. ] Not right now.
[ He's torn beneath her scrutiny. Part of him, the part that is quick to suffer, to cry, to want to crawl beneath blankets and not emerge for entire days at a time wants nothing more than to be seen. Acknowledged.
The rest of him would like to have sex with Sylvie, right now, very badly, thank you ]
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[ She repeats, eyebrows furrowed, watching him for any sign of a lie. Being sad sometimes, that she can accept, can understand. Accept for him, of course. Herself? That pain and sadness she keeps wedged so deeply that it's almost a black hole at this point. There's no releasing that bomb out into the world without destroying herself in the process.
She'll take 'not right now' though, as reason to kiss him again. It's softer this time, less teeth and and more meaning, one that transitions back to passion after a few soft breaks as she shifts as to trap his erection between them and grind up against him softly. ]
I want to make keep you this way.
[ Spoken against his lips, Sylvie lets her hands drift again, tucking hair back out of his face, easing down his shoulders, finding where his hands rested on her waist and encouraging them to help set the pressure and rhythm of her movements. ]
Here...with me...like this. In the present... and not sad.
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He is in awe, mostly. Of her. Obviously.
For Sylvie to say that she means to keep him this way implies she means to keep him. That this is more than a once and never again sort of event. Perhaps it is a thin sort of promise; perhaps he'd be better served just asking. But she's kissing him, first gentle and now not, and grinding against him, and he's not asking her a blessed thing. He's too busy guiding her hips over his, increasing the friction and the pressure but not the pace, to cause her to draw out a hiss and a curse as she moves along his body. ]
I wouldn't stop you. [ Earnest. Honest. ] I like the idea of being kept by you. [ A nip at her bottom lip, another groan as she slides downward. No one is surprised by his admission, certainly. ]
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[ This is taking longer already than She's used to, her desire to enjoy this moment warring with her wanting to speed up, wanting to fit him inside her already. To bring them both to that peak.
Sylvie sits back a bit and reaches between them to grasp the length of him, the water sloshing up against the ceramic as she gives him a few lazy experimental strokes. He's thick and long and heavy, but nothing she cant handle, and a teasing grin stretches her lips as she bobs her eyebrows at him. ]
I'm going to fuck you now Loki. Unless you have any objections.
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She does not want to be kept. She can barely tolerate his admiration at times.
He also knows he's a difficult sort of creature to try and keep. Clearly. Much in the same way that she is a difficult creature to admire. Much in the same way they are both difficult to be close to in any lasting way, for different reasons, to the same end.
But Sylvie is touching him and he's not focused on his strong desire to be kept; it's losing out against his constant and powerful desire to be touched, admired, seen. Fucking, and being fucked, if he's being honest. So he breathes, swallows hard, nods. ]
I have no objections. I would, in fact, say please.
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[ Impatience wins over though, heart pounding in her ears and her stomach in knots just over the sheer desire for him-- she's never felt like this with anyone before. A want for release? yes. The desire for a body? Absolutely. But nothing quite like the way every cell in her body throbs at the idea of finally being able to have him.
Sylvie shifts, bracing herself with one arm on the tub's lip as she slides the head of his cock through her slick folds-- the water doesn't help with lubrication really but she's so ready for him that it doesn't quite matter-- and then slowly fits him inside. He's big, and it's been god even knows how long for her, her new body fluttering already as she pauses a moment, eyes closed and lips parted as she just lets herself adjust, trying not to be already overwhelmed by sensation.
She may not be anything near inexperienced, but this was definitely a first, being on edge just from this.
A little wiggle comes next, and she breathes out his name as she presses down slowly but firmly until she's taken as much of him as she can. The arm on the tub moves to press into his chest, nails digging in just slightly as she moves on him once, and then again, and then again with a little whimper of delight. ]
Loki-
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The hand at her waist makes its way across her skin to cup one side of her ass as he leans forward to kiss her on the next downward motion. ]
Please, [ he says again, voice rough with the control it takes not to lose himself in her almost embarrassingly quickly. He licks at her lips in one moment, drawing the bottom in between his teeth in the next. ] Please, [ and he brings his hips up this time to meet her as she moves. ]
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The way he says that word, the way his voice grates and vibrates up his throat, it leaves her feeling a bit lightheaded from the flash of pleasure it brings. It doesn't help of course, his shifting to kiss her, the change in angle it causes, the way he feels moving inside of her. She's always been good at seeking out her orgasm quick and easy, but this was like trying to hold back a freight train. His hands moving and grasping at her is like tinder on the fire, and she whines into his mouth as he leans in to kiss her. Sylvie wants this to last, wants to drag out every pleasant tingle and burn to the highest arc. She's wanted this too long to let it end too quickly.
His hips snap up into hers, punctured with that word, and she whimpers in his mouth in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she moves with him. His nips and licks are met with her own as she finds a rhythm, nails digging into his back as she rides him with abandon. ]
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As she whimpers he smiles against her lips, against her teeth, breathing in and out as she sets their pace. Loki groans, kisses and teeth straying from her mouth, brushing against her cheekbones, down along the edge of her jaw, to the side of her throat where he worries a small mark into the skin where her neck and her shoulder meet. He kisses the bruise after it blooms, traveling back to her mouth, arms shifting to hold her closer to him. ]
Sylvie. [ Her name is a prayer, a blessing, on his lips as they move together. The water around them sloshes, bubbles falling over the edge of the bathtub onto the tile. ]
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That'd have to wait though, because he's groaning out her name and she's feeling herself spiral, short breathy sounds escaping her as she finds herself too far gone for real words as she chases that high with him. Sylvie digs her nails hard into his shoulder, crunching her eyes tights as she reaches for him, that magic they shared and touched back in the carriage. The thing that only they shared. That live wire that makes the air around them faintly grow green when she touches it, just bringing every touch, every pull of his body in hers, every brush against her nerves, up a thousand fold. It just felt so goddamn good- ]
Oh Fuck Loki!
[ She tumbles over the edge then with a breaking squeak at the end of his name- giving up on holding on to the tub to cling to him. It's strong enough to white out her vision, hard enough to leave the world swirling around them. ]
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Not, it should be noted, because of any conscious decision-making on his part. It was more of a confluence of several true things. That it has not been as long for him as it has been for Sylvie had a lot to do with it, alongside a constant desire to wear a sexual partner into the mattress, so to speak.
And yet. When she touches their shared root of magic it overwhelms him, in the best way, sends him scrambling for control of his senses as the illusion of the same flowers from the carriage burst forth on the tiled floor beneath the bathtub and climb the furniture, the walls, the ceiling in rapid succession. She clings and cries out and he keeps moving, breathing against her skin, holding back his own climax with a rapidly fraying control. ]
That is what we're doing. [ Laughter. A nip against her skin. ]
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[ It's absolutely breathless, still riding the waves of her orgasm as she shifts to help him, to draw them out, not at all satisfied with what she's gotten so far. It feels so good, this connection they have. Terrifying and overwhelming and delicious, better than any lay she's had in the stolen moments she's been able to satisfy her need all these years. Sylvie grips his shoulder with one hand and the tub again with the other to focus on him now, on bringing him to his peak as well. After that? Well. ]
I hope you don't have any plans for the rest of the day. Because I'm not planning on going back tonight anymore.
[ He had wanted faffing, and honestly that's about all she can think of now. Taking him apart as many times as she can and letting him do the same. ]
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[ He kisses her then, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth with a grin and another groan. The illusionary flowers burst into blossom, wither, die, are reborn again in little flares of green and gold magic as his hips snap upward without any sense of rhythm or pattern, merely rising to meet her as swiftly as possible with every thrust. When his control finally snaps it's very sudden; his hands at her waist tighten and he's left gasping and cursing against her mouth as each small flower bursts into a shower of sparks around them. ]
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[ The kiss pulls a little sound out of her as he starts to lose rhythm, the pulse of their intertwined magic leaving sparks behind her eyes-- ones she quickly realizes is also still filling the room as she opens them again. It's beautiful, the flowers curling through their lifecycles, and she's half distracted by the actual artistry of the illusion when his hands tighten around her waist. And then all she can pay attention to is the way he comes apart under her, the way his mouth moves against hers as he whimpers out those curses. The flex of his muscles in his arms and shoulders and back as she holds him close again, swallowing his words with desperate kisses; she can feel his pleasure in echoes through their magic, and she holds him tight as the flowers burst into flecks of light around them. ]
Loki... [ Her arms slowly loosen after a moment, her skin prickling with goosepimples from the cold air and the delicious floating buzz of their release-- backed by that still humming connection. ] Holy...shit.
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