anyway once he gets there and steps into the tent, she's just adjusting the top of the dress. it absolutely looks like jessica's, cleavage-y and low-backed and with a slit clean up to her hip. she hasn't changed her hair or look, though, so it's just a slightly bustier alex with fluffy green curls in a jess dress.
she turns to magnus, lips quirking up. ] So? What do you think?
[if they were in Toon Town, Magnus' jaw would have literally hit the floor. he doesn't know what he's expecting -- is possibly overconfident in his ability to handle Alex In A Slinky Dress, after dancing and flirting with Morticialex all night -- but even that didn't prepare properly for this dress. grey eyes blow wide, and then have a problem finding a single place to land on Alex that doesn't make him feel like a cartoon wolf going "Awoooo!"]
Uuh -- uh --
[yeah, he's definitely not able to howl; he can't even muster more than a syllable at a time. that slit is so high, and the neckline is so low, and the back is holy Ratatosk's acorn shits the back???]
Wow --
[yeah, he just stopped completely dead when his heart did, and is gawping like a buffoon]
[ she's taking that as a good sign. magnus chase is good for her ego, that's for sure. and though she doesn't let herself be self-conscious about things like this, it still feels good to see her boyfriend looking a little speechless. it's only fair, considering how often she feels the same way around him.
she steps forward, sliding her arms around his waist and leaning in to kiss him. ]
It's like that, huh? [ she slides fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, palms flattening against his bare back. ]
[holy shit, he's frozen in place while this complete dream-hallucination of Alex floats over to him (she doesn't, he's just unable to look down past that high hip-slit long enough to remember she has regular feet that she regularly walks on). and then her arms are around him, and he automatically bends to her will, tilting his head to return an already-dazed kiss. the hands at his back are basically all that keep him from toppling over backwards, at getting kissed by this absolute green-and-red Christmas goddess]
[he's still gobsmacked when she pulls back, and at her question, he nods a little eagerly a few times. that's all he's apparently capable of for a few seconds, and then he manages to remember that he's an evolved species with the capacity for language, actually. stutters;]
-- You, look --
[come on. come on, Chase, use the power of all the Norse poets before you, woo your lady love]
-- insanely hot.
[well. not exactly, you know, poetic. but it does get his point across; so does the hand, not slid into that fluffy hair, that can't quite stay still, shyly tracing along the shimmery fabric at her right side, just above that insane slit that is going to feature extremely heavily in all fantasies going forth. gods, he can see her whole thigh when she shifts?! is he supposed to look? can he? he shouldn't, right? he's dying, he's dying in her arms (it's the best death he's had so far, though)]
[ he is definitely allowed to look, and in fact, her face flushes a little with pleasure as his hand finally slides down her waist. her own hands creep up his back, tracing soft skin and muscle, nudging up the bumps of his spine. ]
I like looking good for you.
[ for herself, sure, but for magnus these days, too. she likes it when he gets that dumbfounded, stunned look on his face. she loves it when he kisses her and puts his hands on her, especially since he's usually so, so careful with how he does so.
she kisses him again, curling her fingers to carefully drag them down his back, careful not to scratch. when she pulls back, she's grinning a little teasingly, a little wickedly. ]
--Fantasy material, maybe? [ it's not like she doesn't know what he uses alone time for sometimes, after all. he's a teenager. they're both teenagers. and sometimes all he has to do is smile a certain way to get her a little warm. ]
You always look good. You always look more than good.
[there's almost note of complaint in his voice (it's not fair, that she looks the way she does, moves the way she does, acts the way she does), and his hand squeezes at her waist, almost accidentally, in emphasis. he shivers hard at the feeling of her nails along his spine, pouts in embarrassment at her suggestion. Magnus likes to pretend that he doesn't know she knows what he uses alone time for sometimes. it's impossible to keep that illusion up when Alex directly references it, the ass]
[so instead of responding, he kisses her, mostly so he doesn't have to look at that stupidly gorgeous teasing expression on her face. it's a slow, deep, focused kiss, the hand in her hair curling a little more insistently than before. in the wake of her nails and grin and everything, his body's a little ridged, now, stiff and held away about halfway down. he doesn't want to -- look, he's just a teenager, with his first girlfriend. he doesn't want to embarrass himself, or her, with how easily Alex turns him on. this could easily be happening (and has happened) while she was in her pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt]
[ she takes her time returning the kiss, coaxing his tongue into her mouth, and her own hands slide to his hips, tugging him close again and sliding her knee slowly between his.
she rubs her thumbs over his hipbones reassuringly, obviously not minding that he feels a little hard, transitioning their kiss to a series of smaller ones that trail down his throat. ]
--I think about swimming together in the river sometimes. I mean, that's what I fantasize about. [ she nuzzles into the side of his neck, teeth grazing gently. ] The way you looked, wet and shirtless and with the sun on you like that.
[he exhales shaky, hot breath against her lips, and if his heart had stopped before it's trying to catch up now, beating in what feels like triple time as she presses them together. he fights the urge to jerk either away or towards her, that wound-tight energy coming to the base of his spine, turning his touches lighter, more tenuous on her body. he bites his own bottom lip to stifle himself, at the sensitive drag of teeth along his skin. he's officially lost the ability to think, which is concerning as hel, because she's talking to him]
[focusing on what she has to say doesn't really help, because it just brings to mind images of Alex in her cute bikini, or in his short little shorts, high enough to see the beginning of a curve in his upper thigh (not that Magnus has looked -- gods, of course he's looked). his eyebrows draw, and his fingers slowly reach for her lower back, a bare and perfect expanse. he hates this dress and loves this dress. how the fuck is he supposed to go through an entire night of her wearing it, in public, after her kissing him like this, with no space between them?]
[Alex might be expecting a response, he dumbly realises, trying to drag his focus away from her lips at his neck and the heat curling low in him]
I could be that more. [what] -- Shirtless, sunny. Um. Wet.
[his voice breaks on the word; please don't make fun of him. he sweeps his hand up along her spine, imitating the same trail of nails she just did to him. he's nervous and clueless and a little broken, maybe, but he's trying]
[ it's a bare, raw, breathless little sound, shifting her thigh a little higher between his own, bare skin against the rough denim of his jeans. gods, she needs to slow this down, not scare him off, but it's so-- hot that she can get him like this. that he wants her in a dress or sweatpants, female or male. his hands feel like brands against her back, she's so aware of him.
she hasn't done this in.. a while, and the last time-- but she doesn't want to think about that now, not with magnus warm and all but trembling against her, already overwhelmed.
she smiles against his throat, thumbs stroking up higher, hands drifting up his ribs. ] --I won't be able to keep my hands off of you if you do that. It's already hard enough. [ she wants to know what noises he'd make if she just-- slid her hand down, past the waist of his pants. she wants to strip him naked, see him flush all the way down his chest.
she takes a careful breath, then lifts her head again, catching his mouth tenderly. ]
[sure enough, his senses are being overwhelmed by the smell and sound of her -- the intimate press of her, and his mouth falls open under hers in a soft, shuddering gasp, as the curve of her thigh catches between his. her voice is almost worse than that teasing drag against his growing hard-on, though; he always feels so idiotically obvious, with how much he wants her, getting caught staring when she's combing out her hair, when he's changing his shirt, when she's stretched across a picnic blanket with just the hint of a hip exposed. two-tone eyes always lock onto his, catch him in the act, and then she smirks and laughs and flushes, boys are so stupid, and he's helpless to do anything but agree]
[hearing Alex talk about him, in the same obvious, yearning way he thinks about her, is -- a lot. it's enough to make his kiss turn a bit desperate, tongue licking into her mouth with a vulnerable kind of insistence, mouth eagerly meeting hers and separating with quiet smacking sounds. it feels hot and good, everywhere she touches him, like she's finally found an appropriate use for the skin he doesn't know how to settle properly in, anymore. his hands stop roaming her back, one curling up around her tattooed nape, rubbing fingers into the narrow cords of muscle there. the other comes up to perch under her chin, a careful but firm request -- he never wants to stop kissing her, and he won't, until they have no choice to pause for breath]
-- Tell me, some more, about how irresistible I am to you.
[chest heaving a little, he's joking, doesn't really believe that about himself, as a hazy, wry smile attests. grey eyes are fixed on her collarbones, exposed in the low dress, and -- with some nervous tension that's not reluctance -- he bends his head to trail kisses across one, pausing to suck and nip at the skin with shy adoration]
[ this is the boldest he's ever been with her, and it's both surprising and a surprising turn-on. she's used to taking the lead--she likes taking the lead--when they make out, but as it turns out, she has a bit of a thing for magnus getting pushy and insistent. (a lot of a thing-- maybe because it is rare for him.)
she likes the height she has on him right now, too, being able to duck her head to kiss him, feeling how hungry for her he is. when they part, she feels a little dazed and out of breath, and when she feels lips and teeth against her collarbone, she sips in a shocked little breath, freeing her hands so they can curl instead in blond hair to gently keep him there. ]
And here-- [ one hand slides back down his nape, the heel of her palm stroking down the top of his spine. ] And here I was afraid I was moving too fast for you. [ she shifts her thigh, hitches it right up against the juncture of his own, feeling him hardening. it sends a peculiar little thrill up her spine, heat in the pit of her belly. ]
Mm, don't you already know? [ her lips graze his ear, teeth catching the curve. ] All you have to do is smile at me sometimes. I've never cared about or trusted anyone the way I do you, and you have no idea-- no idea how good you are, how easy it is to love you. [ she breathes a laugh. ] And gods, you're so hot it's no wonder half the Meadows is a little in love with you.
[it's a good thing she's holding him in place at her neck, because while he might be feeling brave enough to gently kiss half-moon bruises onto her collarbone (she's left more than a few hickeys on him, by now -- which heal disappointingly fast), the gasp makes him startle. worried grey eyes flicker upwards in a fear that he's overstepped or messed up or whatever way he's going to eventually make this all go pear-shaped. instead, he sees -- Alex looking flush and a little out of it, her breath shallow. gods, she's so fucking beautiful, and her breath is short because of something he's doing -- ]
[but he can't concentrate for too long on that (doesn't maintain that boldness), with the lean muscle of her thigh suddenly very much up between his own. okay, okay, whatever was happening before -- glancing touches, Magnus abstractly hoping Alex didn't quite realise or at least mind, maybe, how turned on he was getting -- is decidedly progressing in a direction. a punched-out moan escapes him, half-bitten off against her shoulder, and his whole body floods with tension after it; he stills absolutely, thinking, shit, fuck, and other fun exclamatory words]
[falling silent, he buries his nose against her neck, listens with a rabbit-fast heart to her amazing voice say things he frankly never thought he'd hear, much less from her. he has her care and her trust and her love and it all means so much to him, more than anything in the nine realms. he even has her eye, though he knows less what to do with that than a hole in the head, maybe. it doesn't mean he's not hungry for her, like she already knows (can feel against her thigh); it just means his eyes are nervous and his touch shaky and unsure again]
[quietly, after leaning up to taste that breathy laugh of hers, trying to center himself on the thrillingly familiar;]
I want, to be good. Just for you.
[it is a little fast for him, and his nerves are overtaking him without his consent. he feels overheated in his cotton shirt, and a bit panicked, and he wants to move his hips away and against that perfectly shaped thigh all at once]
Oh, babe. [ one of the many good things about magnus chase is that he wears his emotions on his sleeve. it could be a bad thing, were alex not here to protect him from the people that would use that against him, but she is here, and that kind of trait makes things so much easier for her. she knows, for instance, when the tension starts turning nervous again-- he's no less turned on, he doesn't want her any less, but she knows it's a lot of sensation all at once, and he's never been particularly comfortable with touch.
she softens her kiss, starts to gentle her touches, stroking a palm up and down his back to help calm him. ] You're always good for me. You don't even have to try. [ she brushes her nose against his, brushing a kiss across his mouth, then the curve of his cheekbone, her thigh shifting carefully back down. ] --Need some space? [ she pushes his hair back from his face, then gently turns him, urging him back toward his sleeping bag. ]
Sit down, okay? [ she cups his face for another lingering kiss, smiling into it. ] .. Take a few breaths. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for.
[but any stuttered explanation or apology trails off, lost to the soft kiss of her mouth and the soothing touch at his back. he doesn't know why he's this way -- painfully taut inside and raw at the touch of others, even the ones he loves and trusts most, too many nerves sparking -- but in this moment it makes him frustrated, and ashamed. he's considered it a personal victory that he's able to hug his friends, a little more often now; but the stuff with Alex is so far beyond that. he wants her touch so desperately, to smooth all his frayed wires back into the right place. that's how he feels, when she kisses him -- right, like he's never been scrambled up in the first place. just a regular person (a regular, dead, immortal, demigod person, fine, but whatever)]
[maybe he should feel weird and broken, but the way Alex carefully kisses him all over his face, the affection in that nickname that has absolutely stopped being ironic, how she smiles and tells him you're always good for me, don't let that doubt creep in. he goes as she urges, sitting down on his sleeping bag, a little hard (and, er, a little hard)]
[he breathes in a few times, and feels better that -- however intense he'd felt, the moment he's separated from her, he doesn't want to be. he wants Alex near him, always, and it was just going to be a matter of... taking things slow. he nevertheless blushes at the suggestion of what they might do, what he's ready for. his eyes rake over her long legs, the way the red fabric clings to her hips, how one side of the dress is tugged a little cute and lopsided from the press of their bodies]
...I don't think I was ready for that dress.
[it's probably a joke, to ease his own tension. probably. he holds his hand out for her to join him, eyebrows knitting in a vague anxiety not at her, but that she'll still come to him. that he hasn't scared her off, being unready, like he always is]
[ despite herself, she grins. ] I don't think anyone's ever ready for the Jessica Rabbit dress. [ she blows him a kiss, then starts to peel the dress off, changing as she goes, so that by the time it hits the floor of the tent, she's physically male up top, wearing a pair of pink satin panties. she bends to pick the dress up and set it aside, then reaches for one of his t-shirts, sliding it on over her head.
she crosses to him, then, sinking down astride his thighs-- keeping them in contact, but leaving enough distance between their torsos that magnus can take his time, can feel a little less overwhelmed.
she slides her hands over his shoulders, gently cupping the sides of his neck as she leans back in for another soft kiss. ] --Is this okay? Not too much? Should I put on pants?
[it's his true feelings, even if it's absolutely choked out -- gods, did Alex really think she was less sexy in his t-shirt and a pair of adorable, satin pink panties?]
Um, it's okay. I mean, it's not, I don't know how you think anyone would ever be ready for you like this, either?
[but the corner of his mouth is twitching; it makes a giddy feeling rise insanely in his chest, seeing her in his clothing, still. while his hands (and other parts of his body) really want to stray to satin and see how soft the material is under his fingertips (and maybe not just the material), that would probably be Too Much. yeah it would definitely be Too Much, his face is hot enough, just seeing her like this, t-shirt barely covering her lap, legs on either side of his. he settles for tucking his arms comfortably around her waist, letting his eyes linger over her bare thighs and the pink fabric peeking at the sides of her hips. his hand (still a little shaky, honestly) gently slips beneath the back of her (his) t-shirt, seeking the same smooth skin he touched before]
Gods. You're so beautiful, Alex...
[it's an almost distracted mumble, as his nerves spike and settle, with the proximity of her both teasing and comforting, like this. she could rip him apart or break his heart in an instant, and instead she's patient and loving and in her underwear, for him]
no subject
I stole the Hel out of a dress.
Well, I did drop out before I could be fully brainwashed, so there's that.
Plus I'm not, you know, white.
no subject
somethign about private school crackers here
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[it doesn't matter. he's already on his way, honestly]
no subject
[ hahahaha.
anyway once he gets there and steps into the tent, she's just adjusting the top of the dress. it absolutely looks like jessica's, cleavage-y and low-backed and with a slit clean up to her hip. she hasn't changed her hair or look, though, so it's just a slightly bustier alex with fluffy green curls in a jess dress.
she turns to magnus, lips quirking up. ] So? What do you think?
no subject
Uuh -- uh --
[yeah, he's definitely not able to howl; he can't even muster more than a syllable at a time. that slit is so high, and the neckline is so low, and the back is holy Ratatosk's acorn shits the back???]
Wow --
[yeah, he just stopped completely dead when his heart did, and is gawping like a buffoon]
no subject
she steps forward, sliding her arms around his waist and leaning in to kiss him. ]
It's like that, huh? [ she slides fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, palms flattening against his bare back. ]
no subject
[he's still gobsmacked when she pulls back, and at her question, he nods a little eagerly a few times. that's all he's apparently capable of for a few seconds, and then he manages to remember that he's an evolved species with the capacity for language, actually. stutters;]
-- You, look --
[come on. come on, Chase, use the power of all the Norse poets before you, woo your lady love]
-- insanely hot.
[well. not exactly, you know, poetic. but it does get his point across; so does the hand, not slid into that fluffy hair, that can't quite stay still, shyly tracing along the shimmery fabric at her right side, just above that insane slit that is going to feature extremely heavily in all fantasies going forth. gods, he can see her whole thigh when she shifts?! is he supposed to look? can he? he shouldn't, right? he's dying, he's dying in her arms (it's the best death he's had so far, though)]
no subject
I like looking good for you.
[ for herself, sure, but for magnus these days, too. she likes it when he gets that dumbfounded, stunned look on his face. she loves it when he kisses her and puts his hands on her, especially since he's usually so, so careful with how he does so.
she kisses him again, curling her fingers to carefully drag them down his back, careful not to scratch. when she pulls back, she's grinning a little teasingly, a little wickedly. ]
--Fantasy material, maybe? [ it's not like she doesn't know what he uses alone time for sometimes, after all. he's a teenager. they're both teenagers. and sometimes all he has to do is smile a certain way to get her a little warm. ]
no subject
[there's almost note of complaint in his voice (it's not fair, that she looks the way she does, moves the way she does, acts the way she does), and his hand squeezes at her waist, almost accidentally, in emphasis. he shivers hard at the feeling of her nails along his spine, pouts in embarrassment at her suggestion. Magnus likes to pretend that he doesn't know she knows what he uses alone time for sometimes. it's impossible to keep that illusion up when Alex directly references it, the ass]
[so instead of responding, he kisses her, mostly so he doesn't have to look at that stupidly gorgeous teasing expression on her face. it's a slow, deep, focused kiss, the hand in her hair curling a little more insistently than before. in the wake of her nails and grin and everything, his body's a little ridged, now, stiff and held away about halfway down. he doesn't want to -- look, he's just a teenager, with his first girlfriend. he doesn't want to embarrass himself, or her, with how easily Alex turns him on. this could easily be happening (and has happened) while she was in her pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt]
no subject
she rubs her thumbs over his hipbones reassuringly, obviously not minding that he feels a little hard, transitioning their kiss to a series of smaller ones that trail down his throat. ]
--I think about swimming together in the river sometimes. I mean, that's what I fantasize about. [ she nuzzles into the side of his neck, teeth grazing gently. ] The way you looked, wet and shirtless and with the sun on you like that.
no subject
[focusing on what she has to say doesn't really help, because it just brings to mind images of Alex in her cute bikini, or in his short little shorts, high enough to see the beginning of a curve in his upper thigh (not that Magnus has looked -- gods, of course he's looked). his eyebrows draw, and his fingers slowly reach for her lower back, a bare and perfect expanse. he hates this dress and loves this dress. how the fuck is he supposed to go through an entire night of her wearing it, in public, after her kissing him like this, with no space between them?]
[Alex might be expecting a response, he dumbly realises, trying to drag his focus away from her lips at his neck and the heat curling low in him]
I could be that more. [what] -- Shirtless, sunny. Um. Wet.
[his voice breaks on the word; please don't make fun of him. he sweeps his hand up along her spine, imitating the same trail of nails she just did to him. he's nervous and clueless and a little broken, maybe, but he's trying]
no subject
[ it's a bare, raw, breathless little sound, shifting her thigh a little higher between his own, bare skin against the rough denim of his jeans. gods, she needs to slow this down, not scare him off, but it's so-- hot that she can get him like this. that he wants her in a dress or sweatpants, female or male. his hands feel like brands against her back, she's so aware of him.
she hasn't done this in.. a while, and the last time-- but she doesn't want to think about that now, not with magnus warm and all but trembling against her, already overwhelmed.
she smiles against his throat, thumbs stroking up higher, hands drifting up his ribs. ] --I won't be able to keep my hands off of you if you do that. It's already hard enough. [ she wants to know what noises he'd make if she just-- slid her hand down, past the waist of his pants. she wants to strip him naked, see him flush all the way down his chest.
she takes a careful breath, then lifts her head again, catching his mouth tenderly. ]
no subject
[hearing Alex talk about him, in the same obvious, yearning way he thinks about her, is -- a lot. it's enough to make his kiss turn a bit desperate, tongue licking into her mouth with a vulnerable kind of insistence, mouth eagerly meeting hers and separating with quiet smacking sounds. it feels hot and good, everywhere she touches him, like she's finally found an appropriate use for the skin he doesn't know how to settle properly in, anymore. his hands stop roaming her back, one curling up around her tattooed nape, rubbing fingers into the narrow cords of muscle there. the other comes up to perch under her chin, a careful but firm request -- he never wants to stop kissing her, and he won't, until they have no choice to pause for breath]
-- Tell me, some more, about how irresistible I am to you.
[chest heaving a little, he's joking, doesn't really believe that about himself, as a hazy, wry smile attests. grey eyes are fixed on her collarbones, exposed in the low dress, and -- with some nervous tension that's not reluctance -- he bends his head to trail kisses across one, pausing to suck and nip at the skin with shy adoration]
no subject
she likes the height she has on him right now, too, being able to duck her head to kiss him, feeling how hungry for her he is. when they part, she feels a little dazed and out of breath, and when she feels lips and teeth against her collarbone, she sips in a shocked little breath, freeing her hands so they can curl instead in blond hair to gently keep him there. ]
And here-- [ one hand slides back down his nape, the heel of her palm stroking down the top of his spine. ] And here I was afraid I was moving too fast for you. [ she shifts her thigh, hitches it right up against the juncture of his own, feeling him hardening. it sends a peculiar little thrill up her spine, heat in the pit of her belly. ]
Mm, don't you already know? [ her lips graze his ear, teeth catching the curve. ] All you have to do is smile at me sometimes. I've never cared about or trusted anyone the way I do you, and you have no idea-- no idea how good you are, how easy it is to love you. [ she breathes a laugh. ] And gods, you're so hot it's no wonder half the Meadows is a little in love with you.
no subject
[but he can't concentrate for too long on that (doesn't maintain that boldness), with the lean muscle of her thigh suddenly very much up between his own. okay, okay, whatever was happening before -- glancing touches, Magnus abstractly hoping Alex didn't quite realise or at least mind, maybe, how turned on he was getting -- is decidedly progressing in a direction. a punched-out moan escapes him, half-bitten off against her shoulder, and his whole body floods with tension after it; he stills absolutely, thinking, shit, fuck, and other fun exclamatory words]
[falling silent, he buries his nose against her neck, listens with a rabbit-fast heart to her amazing voice say things he frankly never thought he'd hear, much less from her. he has her care and her trust and her love and it all means so much to him, more than anything in the nine realms. he even has her eye, though he knows less what to do with that than a hole in the head, maybe. it doesn't mean he's not hungry for her, like she already knows (can feel against her thigh); it just means his eyes are nervous and his touch shaky and unsure again]
[quietly, after leaning up to taste that breathy laugh of hers, trying to center himself on the thrillingly familiar;]
I want, to be good. Just for you.
[it is a little fast for him, and his nerves are overtaking him without his consent. he feels overheated in his cotton shirt, and a bit panicked, and he wants to move his hips away and against that perfectly shaped thigh all at once]
no subject
she softens her kiss, starts to gentle her touches, stroking a palm up and down his back to help calm him. ] You're always good for me. You don't even have to try. [ she brushes her nose against his, brushing a kiss across his mouth, then the curve of his cheekbone, her thigh shifting carefully back down. ] --Need some space? [ she pushes his hair back from his face, then gently turns him, urging him back toward his sleeping bag. ]
Sit down, okay? [ she cups his face for another lingering kiss, smiling into it. ] .. Take a few breaths. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for.
no subject
[but any stuttered explanation or apology trails off, lost to the soft kiss of her mouth and the soothing touch at his back. he doesn't know why he's this way -- painfully taut inside and raw at the touch of others, even the ones he loves and trusts most, too many nerves sparking -- but in this moment it makes him frustrated, and ashamed. he's considered it a personal victory that he's able to hug his friends, a little more often now; but the stuff with Alex is so far beyond that. he wants her touch so desperately, to smooth all his frayed wires back into the right place. that's how he feels, when she kisses him -- right, like he's never been scrambled up in the first place. just a regular person (a regular, dead, immortal, demigod person, fine, but whatever)]
[maybe he should feel weird and broken, but the way Alex carefully kisses him all over his face, the affection in that nickname that has absolutely stopped being ironic, how she smiles and tells him you're always good for me, don't let that doubt creep in. he goes as she urges, sitting down on his sleeping bag, a little hard (and, er, a little hard)]
[he breathes in a few times, and feels better that -- however intense he'd felt, the moment he's separated from her, he doesn't want to be. he wants Alex near him, always, and it was just going to be a matter of... taking things slow. he nevertheless blushes at the suggestion of what they might do, what he's ready for. his eyes rake over her long legs, the way the red fabric clings to her hips, how one side of the dress is tugged a little cute and lopsided from the press of their bodies]
...I don't think I was ready for that dress.
[it's probably a joke, to ease his own tension. probably. he holds his hand out for her to join him, eyebrows knitting in a vague anxiety not at her, but that she'll still come to him. that he hasn't scared her off, being unready, like he always is]
no subject
she crosses to him, then, sinking down astride his thighs-- keeping them in contact, but leaving enough distance between their torsos that magnus can take his time, can feel a little less overwhelmed.
she slides her hands over his shoulders, gently cupping the sides of his neck as she leans back in for another soft kiss. ] --Is this okay? Not too much? Should I put on pants?
no subject
[it's his true feelings, even if it's absolutely choked out -- gods, did Alex really think she was less sexy in his t-shirt and a pair of adorable, satin pink panties?]
Um, it's okay. I mean, it's not, I don't know how you think anyone would ever be ready for you like this, either?
[but the corner of his mouth is twitching; it makes a giddy feeling rise insanely in his chest, seeing her in his clothing, still. while his hands (and other parts of his body) really want to stray to satin and see how soft the material is under his fingertips (and maybe not just the material), that would probably be Too Much. yeah it would definitely be Too Much, his face is hot enough, just seeing her like this, t-shirt barely covering her lap, legs on either side of his. he settles for tucking his arms comfortably around her waist, letting his eyes linger over her bare thighs and the pink fabric peeking at the sides of her hips. his hand (still a little shaky, honestly) gently slips beneath the back of her (his) t-shirt, seeking the same smooth skin he touched before]
Gods. You're so beautiful, Alex...
[it's an almost distracted mumble, as his nerves spike and settle, with the proximity of her both teasing and comforting, like this. she could rip him apart or break his heart in an instant, and instead she's patient and loving and in her underwear, for him]