Dry Run AIM Log - Natasha and Loki reach an 'understanding' ( While in a sex shop...IDEK)
Loki:(Actually, yeah, I can just see Loki in a sex shop, in his suit)
Loki: "What does this do, Natasha?"
Natasha: "You stick it up your ass and it feels good."
Loki: *deprecating look* As if I didn't know what that felt like.
Natasha: *eyebrow* There's a story there, isn't there?
Loki: Not really. Not unless you wish to hear about all the men I have shared a bed with.
Natasha: You are who you are. I can't judge. *at least when it comes to sex*
Loki: *can also be nonchalant, so there*
Natasha: Do you like leather? *casual as can be*
Loki: Well, yes. *as if it's obvious*
Natasha: *she's testing the waters here* Lace?
Loki: Only if I have breasts at the time. You?
Natasha: I meant on other people.
Loki: *smiles* Well, then. Yes.
Natasha: *smirks* Which one? Leather or lace.
Loki: *taps chin for a moment* Leather. Definitely leather.
Natasha: *pouts, just a bit*
Loki: *smirks* Oh? Did you have the lace at hand already?
Natasha: It's less constrictive. *shrugs* I like to be able to move freely.
Loki: But leather... *smiles* It has a certain... feel. And it stands up to more punishment.
Natasha: I don't have a problem with things getting ruined for the right reasons.
Loki: You're wearing lace beneath your clothes, aren't you?
Loki: And you wish me to sully its perfection.
Natasha: *deadpan* Who's says I'm wearing anything?
Loki: *just smiles*
Natasha: *yawns*
Loki: If I didn't know better, Agent Romanoff, I'd say you were coming on to me.
Natasha: You don't know better? *looks right at him* I thought you told me once you knew everything about me.
Loki: *wicked grin* I know that you and I could kindle a passion which would set your bed aflame.
Natasha: Maybe. *narrows her eyes* But I'm not that easy to get into bed in spite of what you've heard.
Loki: *laughs* Oh, I don't presume to take a tumble with you so easily, Natasha. But you cannot deny that the thought has crossed your mind.
Natasha: Why would I deny it?
Loki: And what would your esteemed colleagues have to say if they knew what forbidden thoughts were allowed to take shape within your mind?
Natasha: * folds her arms, clears her throat* Who says anyone has to know?
Loki: My lips, as ever, may remain sealed.
Natasha: May?
Loki: May, yes. They may... for a price.
Natasha: *closes her eyes, sighing* And that would be?
Loki: *softly, wickedly* The price of a kiss, dear Natasha.
Natasha: *Eyes widen, looks away from him and at...well, they're in a sex shop, it's a WALL of dildos and vibrators. Somehow that's far less uncomfortable.*
Loki: *his grin widening even further* Or, at least, if you won't grace me with a kiss... you could at least show me how these toys are supposed to work.
*yes, it's exactly what it sounds like*
Natasha: *sighs, mutters all the expletives in the entire Russian language, then leans up and kisses him on the chin very quickly* There. Happy?
Loki: *not quite what he had in mind; but it's a start* Oh, is that the kiss which charmed a thousand faces?
Natasha: No. *smirks, looking at the floor* Like I said before, I'm not that easy.
Loki: Oh, Natasha; were you so biddable, you would not intrigue me so.
Natasha: I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.
Loki: I could say many more, would you but give me the chance.
Natasha: *seriously* That almost sounds like you're asking me on a date.
Loki: *raises an eyebrow* Am I?
Natasha: *mirrors that eyebrow raise* Are you?
Loki: Only if you would accept.
Natasha: *silent for a long while, then nods, not looking at him*
Loki: *smiles, but it's less smug than usual, and he speaks softly* Then I am indeed asking you if you would do me the honour of accompanying me to dinner.
Natasha: *swallows thickly, can not even believe this is happen or what she's about to say.* Sure.
Loki: *seems pleased* Good. It's somewhat refreshing to find a woman who's actually prepared to talk to me, rather than bowing down or recoiling in fear.
Natasha: *headtilt* You are aware that you bring that on yourself, aren't you?
Loki: *now genuinely curious* What do you mean?
Natasha: You enjoy making people fear you, especially those you feel are weaker than you. *her eyes shift away for a moment, then back to his* I've seen it someplace before.
Loki: Perhaps you have, but I doubt you've seen any do it in exactly the same way as I.
Natasha: *sadly* No, but I've been damn close. *chews her lip* Too close.
Loki: *softly now* Natasha, if you think I wish to spend time with you merely to make you fear me..
Natasha: *head shake* It's not like that. *looks at him with sad regretful eyes* Sometimes the way you talk reminds me more of myself than I ever thought could be. That...makes me afraid. *closes her eyes* But not of you.
Loki: You're not afraid of me? *another wicked chuckle* Perhaps you should be.
Natasha: You'd hurt me? *she sounds almost innocent when she asks*
Loki: *teasingly* Only if you asked for it.
Natasha: That's not a real answer. *look up at him, her eyes begging him not to lie* Would you hurt me, Loki?
Loki: *quietly. seductively - dangerously* I think we both know the answer to that.
Natasha: *doesn't blink, hardly breaths* At least you're honest.
Loki: *he shrugs; he'd expected that response, and yes, the fact that he is being honest is... well... maybe it does mean something* For you, though... perhaps your death would be swift.
Natasha: *sarcastic* You really know how to sweep a girl of her feet. Perhaps a swift death? *snorts* I'm swooning here.
Loki: Don't tell me this isn't striking a chord with you. *he takes a step closer* For you, my dear Natasha, the end would be quick, and relatively painless. A knife to the throat. A knife to the heart. A farewell kiss as I take away your very lifeblood, a whispered goodbye as I steal your last breath...
Natasha: *swallows, speechless, her eyes locked on his as she...Jesus, she's shaking, and it's not from fear. finally she manages to speak * I'd like to see you try.
Loki: *his voice low, slightly husky* Then perhaps you should keep your eyes open, Romanova.
Natasha: *digs her teeth into her bottom lip to avoid doing something really, really, REALLY stupid* That sounds like a hell of a first date.
Loki: I must admit, I'd be disappointed if you didn't bring your Glock to dinner.
Natasha: *smug* Honey, I don't need a gun. I can kill a man thirty three ways with my bare hands.
Loki: *just as smug* Oh, I know.
Natasha: Then why do you want me to bring my toys to dinner? *She almost sounds sweet then*
Loki: *oh, he knows exactly what she sounds like* Because if you were like all the other girls, I do believe I would quickly become bored and find you most tiresome.
Natasha: *raises both her eyebrows as she reaches out to glide her fingertip over his chin* Hmm. Can't have you getting bored, now can we? *God, what is she doing? She doesn't even know!*
Loki: *he doesn't even need to know WHY she's doing it, just that she IS. That's good enough for him, for now.* I do like a woman who knows how to please.
Natasha: Most men do. *she emphasizes the word, resting her hand on him cheek a moment before giving it an almost playful slap, just enough to sting*
Loki: *again, he laughs; Loki knows full well about how men work, as far as relationships go - and then she slaps him, and that laugh turns into a hiss* How dare you---
Natasha: *smirks, glides her fingers over where she just slapped him* I'm sorry. I thought you said you liked a girl who didn't...how did you put it? *leans in closer* Bow down to you.
Loki: *he should pull away; he should. But he doesn't. Maybe it's just been so long since he felt a woman's touch that he doesn't know what to do.* I like a woman who knows her place.
Natasha: *traces her fingers lower, pausing before she wraps her fingers around his neck gently. She holds him there, not tightly or painfully but firmly enough to let him know she could get very rough if she wanted* I know my place very well. The question is do you know yours?
Loki: *he doesn't seem at all daunted by her hands about his neck. If anything, he's amused... excited, even* Oh yes. Above you.
Natasha: *pushes him back against a wall, her voice slipping into a harsh Russian accent* You're not above me. Not ever.
Loki: *he could use his superhuman strength to push back against her; he could shapeshift into something which could easily escape her grip. Instead, he simply allows her to push him against the wall, eyeing her with interest* We'll see about that, Natasha. *he watches her carefully, as if waiting to see what she'll do next*
Natasha: *she's seething, her hand tightening around his neck all the while her eyes frozen on his. Then...she blinks, pulling her hand away.* This was stupid. *now she tries to walk away*
Loki: *he chuckles as she releases her grip - and then, as she walks away, he moves more quickly than should perhaps be possible, grabbing her wrist* It wasn't just stupid. It was nigh on suicidal.
(20:56:57)
Natasha: *big mistake. She doesn't give a damn they're in public, she twists her other hand around with lightning speed, bending his arm behind his back.* Speak for yourself.
Loki: *oh, not yet; he'll play along for now, snarling at her when she grabs him in an arm-lock* I warn you, Natasha, you will regret this.
Natasha: *presses against him, her own voice snarling back in his ear* The only thing I regret is entertaining the notion you were anything better than...*a pause, one of genuine disappointment* Than what you are.
Loki: *his answer is barely a whisper, but a suggestive one at that* A god?
Natasha: *her grip softens for half a second at his words, then she slams her knee into his side.* A monster.
Loki: *he winces as she strikes the blow, giving a pained gasp, but he's not going to be phased; it actually hurts to hear her call him that, a monster, the same word by which he describes himself, but he bites back the sorrow and masks it with irritation* A monster who causes you to feel something other than sheer indifference.
Natasha: You don't know what I feel. *she voice is trembling, a choking crack at the last word. It's true, she is feeling in a way she hasn't felt in so long. Passion, rage, a lust to make him hurt, make him bleed, make him...anything. She grits her teeth and spits out nothing less than a complete lie.* You don't matter to me, Loki.
Loki: Don't I? *and then he moves quickly, perhaps more quickly than she could anticipate; in a matter of seconds he's taken her arm and somehow reached for her Glock - or perhaps it's trickery, even an illusion, but there's no way to tell; either way, he now appears to be holding one of her hands, closing her fingers about the trigger, guiding her in aiming the weapon towards his head* Prove it.
Natasha: *all she knows it is seems real, it feels so real. Through it all the most shocking thing isn't the speed at which he moves, it isn't the fact her gun is out without her drawing it, it isn't even the fact it's pointed at his head. It's...his hand. His hand holding hers with an unexpected amount of both strength and ...what is it? Not tenderness, not softness. Something she can't quite place. He voice is rough, strained with all those fucking feelings.* No. I only kill when I have you...and you're not worth it.
Loki: When you have me? *there's no doubting the meaning of his comment, the way he emphasises that word in the way he does; his grip becomes more firm, more steady, and he leans in closer, making sure that the gun barrel is now aimed directly at his forehead* After everything I've done, all that you know of me, and yet still you would show me mercy? *his eyes are bright with mischief, even in the apparent realisation of his death*
Natasha: *her hand is shaking, violently. The reason the barrel of her gun is so steady against his head is all his doing. She closes her eyes, using every bit of will she has to make the hand holding the gun go slack. If something happens it's all on him, or that's what she's going to tell herself* I don't know all of you. That is the only reason I show you any mercy.
Loki: *he's in control of the situation, even if Tasha doesn't realise it - at least, he believes that he is. Complete control. His mouth twitches into a smile, his expression curious, yet pleased* And you would yearn to know more? *feeling her grip on the gun weaken, he allows his hold to become loose* You truly believe that, deep down, there is a part of me worthy of your pity?
Natasha:*she swallows again, like someone's shoved a handful of nails into her mouth. Her hand becomes so weak the gun, if it's even truly there, falls to the ground.* I don't pity you. I...*a pause when she realizes she's not breathing* I...I...
Loki: *he could mock her, but he senses that now is not the time for ridicule. No, now is the time for him to take advantage of something else entirely. He doesn't even glance down at the dropped weapon, instead merely closing his fingers firmly but gently about her empty hand. When he speaks, his voice is calm and deceptively reassuring* You think that perhaps Thor has only told you a part of the story. You have the sense to realise that perhaps there are more than even two sides to every truth... and you would fain hear what tale I have to tell.
Natasha: *she's staring into his eyes, unable to tear herself away. Then his hands in hers and she's staring at that, at them. The simple tender act of affection that she will never admit to anyone she craves. She needs.* Would you tell me? *her fingers tighten around his even as they still tremble* Would you tell me everything?
Loki: *practically whispering now* Yes, if you would but listen. *he begins to rub his thumb gently over the back of her hand, soothing her* For too long, Midgard has forgotten the stories, but you... you are no mere hired gun, no mindless assassin whose strings can be so easily pulled, no matter what you may pretend otherwise. You, I feel would be able to hear that which others all so easy fail to even notice; you, perhaps, could understand.
Natasha: *what happens next surprises her perhaps more than it will surprise him. She leans her head forward as she listens, eventually pressing her forehead against his chest. The arch of her neck leaves her exposed, vulnerable, ripe for an easy kill but still she leaves herself in that position regardless.* I'll listen. * the hand that isn't holding his hand reaches up, her fingers spreading over his heart. Does he even have a heart? She needs to know.* I'll listen to every word.