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draino2024-11-09 08:00 am
saltburnmods) wrote in draino2024-11-09 08:00 am
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πππππ, πππππ, πππππ β£ NOV TDM
NOVEMBER 2024 TDM: RENAISSANCE
Welcome to SALTBURNT, a panfandom smut/thriller game based off the film Saltburn, where characters are encouraged to indulge their deepest desires. The money never runs out and the liquor never stops pouring, so you may as well indulge from the bounty. Of course, things are rarely what they seem, and the manor itself seems to have a consciousness of its own. Throw parties, trash the house, engage in youthful merriment, but remember β dangers come out at night, and no one, no matter how rich you are, is safe from demons lurking in the shadows.
Threads can be considered game canon, provided the players agree. Players can also start fresh upon acceptance into the game. In game characters can post to the TDM directly, using Β« NEW CHARACTER/IN GAMEΒ» in the header. There will be a spot below for new characters to link their toplevels for easy access. Alternatively, prompts on the Test Drive can be used for in game logs.
WELCOME TO SALTBURNT
It's the hangover more than the light streaming in through half drawn curtains that wakes you up, your brain rattling in your skull, your mouth dry and cottony, your stomach churning with whatever it is you drank last night. If self preservation is your strong suit, you might turn over in bed and see a few painkillers laid out for you on a silver dish, accompanied by a glass of water. If it isnβt, stay in bed and wallow β eventually a maid will be in to tear your curtains open, saying, "Breakfast is served," and scurrying out quietly, invisibly. Breakfast? Maybe itβs normal for you. Maybe it isnβt.
You're drawn from the room, either by the mystery, or an undefinable urge that could be supernatural in origin, or could be your hunger catching up to you. It's almost nostalgic, the walk to the dining room β have you been here before? Were you drawn up to this estate in a car? Havenβt you done all this already? Maybe you mosey around a library, maybe you run into your suite mate in your adjoining bathroom. Regardless, seemingly all hallways, covered in priceless artworks and ancient relics from times long past, lead to the dining room, where a comically long table houses the Balfours and their many guests, some who seem just as disgruntled and confused as you. No matter. "Breakfast will be out in a minute," they say. What's that?
EDIT SEPTEMBER 2024: For those who have attended breakfast with the Balfours before, a change in routine might come as a shock, given how rarely they stray from form. However, as of September, CARMY BERZATTO has taken over Head Chef position, alongside his cousin RICHIE JERIMOVICH and always the bridesmaid never the bride, SANJI. In place of the self-serve style breakfast, there is an elevated menu, including: a self-serve juice bar, with pitchers of various juiced fruit and vegetables, shaved ice, coconut water, green and black tea syrups, potted microherbs, sliced whole berries, and finger limes. There is also, naturally, liquor and champagne available. Guests can make their own drinks, or ask the allocated staff member to serve them one of the "specials" if they're feeling adventurous.
πππ πππππ: one runny boiled egg shelled and recoated in edible gold leaf, seated on a throne of fried bread soldiers, plated with whipped butter and italian parsley.
ππππ ππππππππ: vinegar poached eggs with hollandaise foam on a bed of toasted freekah and baby spinach.
ππππ πππππππππππ: two eggs poached in a ramekin of pureed tomato, served with a crispy grilled cheese cut to dip.
πππ ππππππ: french omelette with a light cheese filling, topped with crushed potato chips and chives.
ππππ π πππππππππ: fluffy scrambled eggs in brown butter, served on sourdough.
πππππππ ππππ: mini-quiche made with caramelized red onions and jamon pata negra ham.
πππ ππππππππππ: bacon, egg, cheese and sausage breakfast muffin that tastes weirdly like it was made at a popular chain with golden arches.
β momofuku's "cereal milk" β
β fette biscottate with a sour cherry jam and peanut floss β
β a warm cinnamon bun served with a shot of espresso coffee for dipping β
β a macadamia-marzipan croissant with a wattleseed and burnt-honey filling β
β poffertjes with a liquid nutella injection β
If you want to leave, youβll have to tell Giles, the housekeeper, who will arrange a car for you that mysteriously, or perhaps suspiciously, never arrives. Unfortunately, confronting Giles about it is near impossible, as heβs as good at being invisible as the rest of the house staff. Of course, thereβs no reason why you canβt just walk out. The front gates are easy enough to jump over, even if the walk towards them gives you a strange sense of foreboding, or just outright discomfort, as if the ground itself doesnβt want you to leave. Those more sensitive or fragile might find they canβt make the jump, no matter how physically able, or desperately wanting. Still, a strong person could continue on, over the fence and into the lush English countryside. The feeling doesnβt dissipate, though β this sense of wrongness, almost sickness, like a weight on your back. Walk into the evergreen, carry on, but the strongest will make it perhaps a mile or so before the weight of dread and paranoia brings you to your knees, and then to your face, flat in the middle of a dirt road. What were you thinking? Is this really better?
Wake up with a hangover, in a bed, the curtains drawn, the maid saying, "Breakfast is served," before scurrying out. The painkillers are there, just like you remember. In fact, itβs all exactly how you remember, as if you never left an imprint the first time, or any mess you made was cleared away while your back was turned. Walk to the dining room, find everyone there eating away at their breakfast.
"We dress for dinner," says Portia, with a kind, if discerning smile. "Black tie."
You're drawn from the room, either by the mystery, or an undefinable urge that could be supernatural in origin, or could be your hunger catching up to you. It's almost nostalgic, the walk to the dining room β have you been here before? Were you drawn up to this estate in a car? Havenβt you done all this already? Maybe you mosey around a library, maybe you run into your suite mate in your adjoining bathroom. Regardless, seemingly all hallways, covered in priceless artworks and ancient relics from times long past, lead to the dining room, where a comically long table houses the Balfours and their many guests, some who seem just as disgruntled and confused as you. No matter. "Breakfast will be out in a minute," they say. What's that?
EDIT SEPTEMBER 2024: For those who have attended breakfast with the Balfours before, a change in routine might come as a shock, given how rarely they stray from form. However, as of September, CARMY BERZATTO has taken over Head Chef position, alongside his cousin RICHIE JERIMOVICH and always the bridesmaid never the bride, SANJI. In place of the self-serve style breakfast, there is an elevated menu, including: a self-serve juice bar, with pitchers of various juiced fruit and vegetables, shaved ice, coconut water, green and black tea syrups, potted microherbs, sliced whole berries, and finger limes. There is also, naturally, liquor and champagne available. Guests can make their own drinks, or ask the allocated staff member to serve them one of the "specials" if they're feeling adventurous.
That said, these are world class chefs, so the gold is really in the menu:
THE EGGS
πππ πππππ: one runny boiled egg shelled and recoated in edible gold leaf, seated on a throne of fried bread soldiers, plated with whipped butter and italian parsley.
ππππ ππππππππ: vinegar poached eggs with hollandaise foam on a bed of toasted freekah and baby spinach.
ππππ πππππππππππ: two eggs poached in a ramekin of pureed tomato, served with a crispy grilled cheese cut to dip.
πππ ππππππ: french omelette with a light cheese filling, topped with crushed potato chips and chives.
ππππ π πππππππππ: fluffy scrambled eggs in brown butter, served on sourdough.
πππππππ ππππ: mini-quiche made with caramelized red onions and jamon pata negra ham.
πππ ππππππππππ: bacon, egg, cheese and sausage breakfast muffin that tastes weirdly like it was made at a popular chain with golden arches.
THE SWEETS
β fette biscottate with a sour cherry jam and peanut floss β
β a warm cinnamon bun served with a shot of espresso coffee for dipping β
β a macadamia-marzipan croissant with a wattleseed and burnt-honey filling β
β poffertjes with a liquid nutella injection β
If you want to leave, youβll have to tell Giles, the housekeeper, who will arrange a car for you that mysteriously, or perhaps suspiciously, never arrives. Unfortunately, confronting Giles about it is near impossible, as heβs as good at being invisible as the rest of the house staff. Of course, thereβs no reason why you canβt just walk out. The front gates are easy enough to jump over, even if the walk towards them gives you a strange sense of foreboding, or just outright discomfort, as if the ground itself doesnβt want you to leave. Those more sensitive or fragile might find they canβt make the jump, no matter how physically able, or desperately wanting. Still, a strong person could continue on, over the fence and into the lush English countryside. The feeling doesnβt dissipate, though β this sense of wrongness, almost sickness, like a weight on your back. Walk into the evergreen, carry on, but the strongest will make it perhaps a mile or so before the weight of dread and paranoia brings you to your knees, and then to your face, flat in the middle of a dirt road. What were you thinking? Is this really better?
Wake up with a hangover, in a bed, the curtains drawn, the maid saying, "Breakfast is served," before scurrying out. The painkillers are there, just like you remember. In fact, itβs all exactly how you remember, as if you never left an imprint the first time, or any mess you made was cleared away while your back was turned. Walk to the dining room, find everyone there eating away at their breakfast.
"We dress for dinner," says Portia, with a kind, if discerning smile. "Black tie."
2 GIRLS 1 CUP
CONTENT WARNINGS: nudity, potential for nsfw.
Over the past few days, a bit of construction has taken place on the grounds of the Saltburnt estate, and while it's difficult to piece together what exactly is being built, it's clear to see: whatever it is, it's massive, taking up a huge percentage of the grounds with multiple included structures. On the outside it seems almost like a neighborhood is being sprung up βΒ new houses for people to live in, maybe? New shops, disconnected from the manor at large? All is revealed on opening day, when upon entry all are greeted with cheery hellos from jauntily clad persons shouting, "Huzzah!" and "Hail and well met!" For the more medieval and fantasy inclined among you, it might feel like stepping somewhere familiar and homey. To the rest, you know β you've just walked into a Ren Faire. Costumes are expected.
Not sure what to wear? Those born between SEPTEMBER to FEBRUARY are dubbed part of the Unseelie Court, which is associated with darkness and decay, generally dressed in deep, dark colors. Those born between MARCH to AUGUST are part of the Seelie Court, which is associated with stars and sky, in lighter, brighter colors.
On either side of the split path, you're assaulted by the scents, sights, and sounds of any ordinary Ren Faire. Vendors pawn off garlicky mushrooms and full turkey legs, or flower crowns and juggling sticks in exchange for a kiss, a secret, a lock of hair, or something of equal nonsensical value. Step inside a shop and see sellers offering crude jewelry and satchels of loose leaf tea, fudge sold by the ounce and porcelain ocarinas. Essentially, if it's kitschy and thematic, you can find it here, being sold to you by people in costume who refuse to break character.
Shopping not quite your style? Fear not! If you're lucky in your wanderings, your might spot the Unseelie Queen ALICENT HIGHTOWER or her counterpart and opposed Seelie Queen LAURALAE carried on palanquins towards the very back of the faire, where the real heart of the show takes place in a small stadium for entertainment purposes βΒ a tourney for distinguishing yourself as the best among your peers in the manor. Prior to the tourney, all characters are given a favor of some kind ( an embroidered handkerchief, ribbon, garland, or piece of jewelry ) to give to a person of their choosing, be they a competitor or not, to show their support. Strangely, this favor seems to link them through an empathetic, sensation-based bond, so they feel everything their chosen competitor experiences. Mutual favors result in a mutual bond.
The challenges are set: ARCHERY/KNIFE THROWING, SWORDFIGHTING/HAND-TO-HAND, and a BARD'S TOURNEY. In addition to the more ye olde flavor of competition, there are also challenges for COUPLE TENNIS, HORSE POLO, and CHESS. And, in true Saltburnt fashion, there is also a somewhat lewd display of voyeuristic NUDE WRESTLING, where the first person to have an orgasm loses. (You can sign up for these competitions HERE.) To every challenge there is dubbed a winner, who in the old Westerosi tradition gets to crown a chosen "maiden" with the title THE QUEEN OR KING OF LOVE AND BEAUTY and an extravagant wreath of flowers, their victory dedicated to the lucky lord or lady. These wreaths are both fashionable and functional β while wearing them, no one can resist following whatever queenly command your character gives. Additionally, winners will receive prizes courtesy of Saltburnt, all to be determined upon victory.
Whichever queen has the most winners at the end of the tourney is crowned HIGH QUEEN OF THE FAE. The Queen is paraded around and celebrated by all, and while tribute is not necessary, it certainly is appreciated!
Over the past few days, a bit of construction has taken place on the grounds of the Saltburnt estate, and while it's difficult to piece together what exactly is being built, it's clear to see: whatever it is, it's massive, taking up a huge percentage of the grounds with multiple included structures. On the outside it seems almost like a neighborhood is being sprung up βΒ new houses for people to live in, maybe? New shops, disconnected from the manor at large? All is revealed on opening day, when upon entry all are greeted with cheery hellos from jauntily clad persons shouting, "Huzzah!" and "Hail and well met!" For the more medieval and fantasy inclined among you, it might feel like stepping somewhere familiar and homey. To the rest, you know β you've just walked into a Ren Faire. Costumes are expected.
Not sure what to wear? Those born between SEPTEMBER to FEBRUARY are dubbed part of the Unseelie Court, which is associated with darkness and decay, generally dressed in deep, dark colors. Those born between MARCH to AUGUST are part of the Seelie Court, which is associated with stars and sky, in lighter, brighter colors.
On either side of the split path, you're assaulted by the scents, sights, and sounds of any ordinary Ren Faire. Vendors pawn off garlicky mushrooms and full turkey legs, or flower crowns and juggling sticks in exchange for a kiss, a secret, a lock of hair, or something of equal nonsensical value. Step inside a shop and see sellers offering crude jewelry and satchels of loose leaf tea, fudge sold by the ounce and porcelain ocarinas. Essentially, if it's kitschy and thematic, you can find it here, being sold to you by people in costume who refuse to break character.
Shopping not quite your style? Fear not! If you're lucky in your wanderings, your might spot the Unseelie Queen ALICENT HIGHTOWER or her counterpart and opposed Seelie Queen LAURALAE carried on palanquins towards the very back of the faire, where the real heart of the show takes place in a small stadium for entertainment purposes βΒ a tourney for distinguishing yourself as the best among your peers in the manor. Prior to the tourney, all characters are given a favor of some kind ( an embroidered handkerchief, ribbon, garland, or piece of jewelry ) to give to a person of their choosing, be they a competitor or not, to show their support. Strangely, this favor seems to link them through an empathetic, sensation-based bond, so they feel everything their chosen competitor experiences. Mutual favors result in a mutual bond.
The challenges are set: ARCHERY/KNIFE THROWING, SWORDFIGHTING/HAND-TO-HAND, and a BARD'S TOURNEY. In addition to the more ye olde flavor of competition, there are also challenges for COUPLE TENNIS, HORSE POLO, and CHESS. And, in true Saltburnt fashion, there is also a somewhat lewd display of voyeuristic NUDE WRESTLING, where the first person to have an orgasm loses. (You can sign up for these competitions HERE.) To every challenge there is dubbed a winner, who in the old Westerosi tradition gets to crown a chosen "maiden" with the title THE QUEEN OR KING OF LOVE AND BEAUTY and an extravagant wreath of flowers, their victory dedicated to the lucky lord or lady. These wreaths are both fashionable and functional β while wearing them, no one can resist following whatever queenly command your character gives. Additionally, winners will receive prizes courtesy of Saltburnt, all to be determined upon victory.
Whichever queen has the most winners at the end of the tourney is crowned HIGH QUEEN OF THE FAE. The Queen is paraded around and celebrated by all, and while tribute is not necessary, it certainly is appreciated!
RING AROUND THE ROSEY
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential for nsfw.
The Ren Faire fixture runs adjacent to the tree line of the forest, which one can enter through a booth manned by THE GREAT WIZARD ARCHIBALD, who warns you to be prepared to enter the Realm of the Fae beyond his backdrop curtain, before handing you a flower and a pair of antlers (or a head piece from your fauna choice) for your journey to the beyond. Upon entering, you are greeted by a forest that bears no resemblance to the woods you've grown to expect in your time at the manor, everything more exaggeratedly lush than it had been even a day or so prior. Plump fruits with slightly glimmering skins grow fat on the vine, every leaf on every tree vibrant and healthy despite the changing of seasons, gone orange and red with the cold. Despite that, it's surprisingly balmy in the forest, everything illuminated by glimmering fairy lights and strung up lanterns. Flowers bloom under your feet, alongside perfect little red mushrooms, everything so idealistic it almost borders on discomfort.
Despite any reservations, there is a wild compulsion to everyone who enters the forest. The flower the wizard gave you is pungent enough to dizzy your head, leading you to the instinct of frolicking β or if you're not the type to frolick, then wandering βΒ through the woods, to find some counterpart to your particular flower in a very innocent (or not so innocent) game of cat and mouse. Once you find them, a simple kiss will serve as enough to claim your prize and ease the compulsion. Unless, of course, you want to give a little more. It couldn't hurt, right?
Wander further through the seemingly never ending woods, drawn on of the beauty of faerie, and find yourself at a somewhat rundown chapel surrounded by foliage, the roof and walls broken down with age, invaded by exploring plant life that crawls and vines through every crack and opening. While the stone altar of indeterminate denomination seems like it hasn't been seen for hundreds of years, let alone cleaned, there's the distinct impression you are walking on hallowed, sacred ground when you move to inspect it. Those clever among you might note different runes etched on what appears to be a wooden tabernacle on an ancient pillar at the back of the chapel. Looking into it, there's a word from an unknown language carved inside, complimented with a cheat sheet bit of yellowing paper which reads F. M. K., with further explanation: FRIENDS, MARRY, KINK.
What could it mean? Well. You and whoever you entered the chapel with, or whoever enters next, are stuck until further notice unless you complete one of the proffered options. FRIENDS, it's time you bury the hatchet, let bygones be bygones and accept our faults moving forward, together, to the future. MARRY, let's seal our bonded union with the trees as our witness, in a church of our own making. KINK, if the altar can't be used for the former, it can certainly be used for the latter. Nothing vanilla will do βΒ kink up or shut up.
Once completed, you're free to leave and roam around the forest at your leisure. If you wander far enough you might hear a distant, organic sound whirring and clicking from the trees, but don't worry. Whatever is watching you probably doesn't bite.
The Ren Faire fixture runs adjacent to the tree line of the forest, which one can enter through a booth manned by THE GREAT WIZARD ARCHIBALD, who warns you to be prepared to enter the Realm of the Fae beyond his backdrop curtain, before handing you a flower and a pair of antlers (or a head piece from your fauna choice) for your journey to the beyond. Upon entering, you are greeted by a forest that bears no resemblance to the woods you've grown to expect in your time at the manor, everything more exaggeratedly lush than it had been even a day or so prior. Plump fruits with slightly glimmering skins grow fat on the vine, every leaf on every tree vibrant and healthy despite the changing of seasons, gone orange and red with the cold. Despite that, it's surprisingly balmy in the forest, everything illuminated by glimmering fairy lights and strung up lanterns. Flowers bloom under your feet, alongside perfect little red mushrooms, everything so idealistic it almost borders on discomfort.
Despite any reservations, there is a wild compulsion to everyone who enters the forest. The flower the wizard gave you is pungent enough to dizzy your head, leading you to the instinct of frolicking β or if you're not the type to frolick, then wandering βΒ through the woods, to find some counterpart to your particular flower in a very innocent (or not so innocent) game of cat and mouse. Once you find them, a simple kiss will serve as enough to claim your prize and ease the compulsion. Unless, of course, you want to give a little more. It couldn't hurt, right?
Wander further through the seemingly never ending woods, drawn on of the beauty of faerie, and find yourself at a somewhat rundown chapel surrounded by foliage, the roof and walls broken down with age, invaded by exploring plant life that crawls and vines through every crack and opening. While the stone altar of indeterminate denomination seems like it hasn't been seen for hundreds of years, let alone cleaned, there's the distinct impression you are walking on hallowed, sacred ground when you move to inspect it. Those clever among you might note different runes etched on what appears to be a wooden tabernacle on an ancient pillar at the back of the chapel. Looking into it, there's a word from an unknown language carved inside, complimented with a cheat sheet bit of yellowing paper which reads F. M. K., with further explanation: FRIENDS, MARRY, KINK.
What could it mean? Well. You and whoever you entered the chapel with, or whoever enters next, are stuck until further notice unless you complete one of the proffered options. FRIENDS, it's time you bury the hatchet, let bygones be bygones and accept our faults moving forward, together, to the future. MARRY, let's seal our bonded union with the trees as our witness, in a church of our own making. KINK, if the altar can't be used for the former, it can certainly be used for the latter. Nothing vanilla will do βΒ kink up or shut up.
Once completed, you're free to leave and roam around the forest at your leisure. If you wander far enough you might hear a distant, organic sound whirring and clicking from the trees, but don't worry. Whatever is watching you probably doesn't bite.
DIRECTORY
no subject
Did you want me to?
[Because he could do that too.
But he thinks she doesn't seem terribly disappointed if she's holding his hand and offering to dance for him.]
I can wait.
[This part of Hyunsu might lack patience in general but he doesn't mind the idea of waiting for Eunyu to find her desire to dance again. That's not something that needs to be rushed.
He glances around the chapel as they move through it, taking a moment to focus on something other than Eunyu for a few seconds.]
I haven't been here before.
[He's explored quite a bit of the grounds around the manor at this point and he doesn't recognize the chapel.]
no subject
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
( they're at the altar now β a thought that settles like a worm in her brain now that she thinks it, i just walked hyunsu down the aisle. it's not the kind of thing she thought about back home really, so it's weird now, to have all these schoolgirl daydreams about something she's never even wanted. shaking her head, she only drops hyunsu's hand when she moves to open the tabernacle, frowning confusedly at what's inside. )
Oh.
( oh? she picks up the paper β friend, marry, kink. fmk. )
Ohhh-kay. Weird.
no subject
Is it good or bad that he hasn't been here before? He's honestly not sure.]
I don't know yet.
[And he definitely does not pout or anything when she releases his hand. Certainly not. He just peeks over her shoulder to see what she's reading.
He huffs softly. He's been here long enough to not be surprised by what it says.]
More games.
[He knows how this place works by now. It seems to love games. And sex. And violence, as well, but fortunately that doesn't seem to be the theme it's going for at the moment.]
What do you want to do?
[He'll let her decide how to proceed. How they play or if they do. Though knowing how the manor is, he's not sure refusal would be easy or possible. It seems important to let Eunyu choose, though.]
no subject
Not all of us like wrestling naked.
( she rolls her lips in, hands flat on her hips, thinking. eventually, she just shakes her head, stepping back towards the entrance. )
This is stupid. We'll just leave.
( except, back at the front of the chapel, there's some sort of ... something, keeping her inside. an invisible wall. she presses against it but there's no give, nothing to leverage against.
testing, she breaks off a termite rotted bit of church pew, and tosses it at the door. it breaks on something invisible, and the invisible something doesn't break, leaving them trapped. well β )
Shit.
no subject
In retrospect it shouldn't be surprising because, well...she's here and the wrestling happened in public.
Fuck.
He opens his mouth to say something, but his brain hasn't caught up to making words again yet, so he closes it. Then he realizes that, oh, Eunyu is trying to leave. But wait, now she seems distressed.
Finally, one word:]
What?
[Smooth.]
no subject
( she says, wrongly interpreting his question. what indeed. the solution to this puzzle is obvious enough, but she's βΒ understandably worried. sure, the word kink is stuck in her like a barbed arrow, but there are two other options. friend and marry. weirdly, kink seems like the least intimate one.
stepping back to stand near hyunsu at the altar, she crosses her arms over her chest. belatedly, she moves to press the heel of her hand against her cheek, rubbing against her blush. )
Do you have anything to tell me? Anything we should talk about? ( eunyu's guess: no, probably not. with a grave bit of uncomfortable seriousness, ) I'm not letting you kink me.
( probably just because it's so fresh in her mind that hyunsu even could, she figures it'll be that way, rather than the opposite. it might've been enticing to watch hyunsu pin hao, using strength and power to his advantage, but if eunyu tries to put herself in his place ... no, definitely not. it makes her a little clammy, not because she doesn't trust him, but because she can't trust anyone, not like that. )
no subject
But Eunyu is anxious. Agitated in a way that she wasn't a little while ago when they were holding hands.
He realizes what she's saying and responds:]
I would let you kink me.
[He says it almost without thinking it. He told her before, at the pool party, that she could have whatever she wanted of him. This just seems like an extension of that.]
no subject
What about the pink guy? ( a kind of all encompassing gesture to hyunsu, about a foot taller and twice as wide as her. ) You liked kinking him.
no subject
Hao's annoying. [This is meant as insult, yes, but also it's just a statement of fact. Hao seems to take pride in being the most obnoxious man alive.] He likes being pushed around, so I push him around. It shuts him up. It's not the same with you.
no subject
eunyu stares at him for a long while. eventually the silence breaks when she takes a breath, offering up a little shrug in nonchalance. deliberately, she steps into his space, reaching up a hand to seize his throat. squeezing. )
Get on your knees, then.
( presuming she's called his bluff, she steps back, waiting. )
no subject
He meets her gaze and drops to his knees easily, as though he'd just been waiting for the command.]
I told you. I'm yours.
no subject
stepping back into him, two fingers prop up under his chin, forcing his gaze upwards. she's close enough he could rest his cheek on her hipbone, if she let him. )
Prove it. ( the same issued challenge she gave him before β if he wants to be soft, if he wants to be good, he has some ground to make up. moving, she presses her foot on the front of his thigh, tapping the toe against him. ) Take my shoes off.
( gym shoes, more easy to run it. beneath: the long cotton of her stocking socks, reaching up past her knee. )
no subject
At her next command his eyebrows quirks slightly in curiosity, but again he doesn't hesitate. He unlaces her shoe without protest, then gently but firmly cups her calf so that he call pull the shoe off her foot.
Before he reaches for her other foot, he glances up at her again.]
And your socks?
[She didn't mention those but he could remove those too, if she wants.]
no subject
( spoken after a beat, as if she's surprised hyunsu is playing along at all. it's not like eunyu treats anyone especially nicely, but this is functionally different for a lot of reasons βΒ usually, she acts poorly because she wants people to leave her alone, but that isn't the case with hyunsu. now she's acting poorly to prove a point she's failing at: that hyunsu actually doesn't mean what he's saying, that he's signing a blank check and telling her to fill in the amount. eunyu is the one off balance here, shocked it's even gotten this far.
once her shoes are clear, she steps her foot down boldly on the the front of his pants, toes wiggling around his groin, mapping out his cock. finally, eunyu looks pleased with herself, arching an amused brow at him. )
You're hard.
no subject
Yeah...
[He chokes out the word, his voice huskier than it had been a few moments before. He'd been fairly confident about taking orders, he knows he can be good at that. Now he's a little flustered.]
Isn't that what you wanted?
no subject
Yeah. Good boy.
( it feels like the right thing to say. he is, after all.
she moves, settling her feet flat on the floor. it takes a little burst of intention and confidence, but eunyu eventually lifts her hands up under her dress, keeping herself concealed for the most part, but for the flash of thigh and hip as she hooks thumbs around her panties and pulls them off. nothing fancy β she hadn't intended anyone see them, so they're cotton and practical with a cherry patterned design. embarrassingly adolescent. not willing to let them get dirty, she throws them on the altar, huffing a breath, before giving her attention back to hyunsu. )
Hands. ( she demands, reaching out for them. once he gives them, she settles them on the jutting points of her hips, the fabric of her dress now the only thing that keeps him from her skin. swallowing dryly, she tilts her head. ) Who knew it was so easy to get you to behave?
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He watches her with a quiet fascination. He barely notices what her panties look like because the only thing that's really registering is that she's taking them off. He offers his hands without hesitation when she asks and once she's settled them where she wants he's tempted to rest his head against her belly or kiss the corners of her hips.
Stupid soft things. Or would they be sexy? He's not sure, really. He just thinks he'd like to worship her.
He stares up at her when she speaks again, breathless and enthralled.]
Only for you.
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( yeah right, she means to say. this version of hyunsu, maybe βΒ but she knows hyunsu for what he is, what he tries to be. a solution for everyone, a fixer, and helper. if someone else needed him like this, she doesn't doubt he'd give it to them. she admires it about him, likes that he's so good he's unselfish about sharing tiny, sweet parts of himself. she just wishes he'd do a better job protecting those parts, and the rest of him too.
leaving his hands where they are, she lifts hers, thumbing the straps of her dress. her teeth sink into her lower lip, hesitant. nudity is a big, uncomfortable step. after a beat she drops them again, sliding her fingers through his hair, affectionately ruffling him. )
Can you βΒ just. Just close your eyes, again.
( she says it apologetically. a sorry i'm too broken that i can't be naked in front of you. sorry i don't want you to see me. sorry i'm scared you won't like what you see. )
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Until you tell me to open them?
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( at least with his eyes closed she can't let out a breath, mouthing what the fuck to no one but the altar. how exactly did she gets hyunsu on his knees, hands on her? she has less than a clue. she's going to assume temporary insanity. not that it's fair, obviously βΒ she's fully conscious in stepping away from him, picking her dress off her shoulders one at a time until the fabric pools at her feet, awkwardly stepping out of it with a nervous glance down. yep, she's naked. alright. might as well commit.
when she catches hyunsu's hands again and presses them against her hips, it's bare skin until his palms, fabric warmed and soft. her breath catches, not used to the feeling. )
Hyunsu.
( she sighs it before halving down, fingers propping up his face so she can kiss him, tongue laving over the seam of his mouth. pressed against him, )
Remember our deal?
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He can't quite stop himself from gently stroking her hipbones with his thumbs, though. He's not trying to demand anything, he just likes touching her.]
I remember. Do you want me to change?
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( what did she mean? she layers kisses across his mouth, affectionate little time fillers, looking for her courage. it isn't far behind βΒ hyunsu is here, pliant, with his eyes closed. it's the right time to be bold, or at least be honest. )
I just meant, we're not having sex. Not yet. ( biting her lip, her hands trail down from his throat, not bothering to hide her interest in lifting up his shirt so she can lay her hands against his torso, tracing the lines of his abdomen. ) I thought I'd give you the option: you can touch me, or I'll touch you. I'll give him whatever you don't pick. What do you think?
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And then she's kissing him and touching him and it leaves him breathless and dizzy. He's not disappointed by the boundary she sets because he thinks he could be content with just this. Affection and reassurance. He's had so little of it in his life, especially in recent years. It's lack is part of why this part of him exists now in the way that it does.
He leans into her as her fingers caress his abdomen and when he speaks his voice is thick and husky.]
I like it when you touch me. [This feels like the more selfish choice, but this is the more selfish part of him. It's not that he doesn't want to touch her. He does. He's just a little drunk on her attention now. He doesn't want her to stop yet. And on some level he worries that when he's like this he doesn't know how to be as gentle as she deserves, even though he promised her he'd be soft for her.]
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( even if it's a weird rein faire, flouncy thing βΒ it comes up easily under eunyu's tugging, pulled up and over his head. it's not the first time eunyu has had to accept the reality that hyunsu is insanely hot physically, but she lets out a sigh of appreciation anyway, freeing her hands to lay them against his firm chest, resettling her knees to dig more firmly into the ground. fingertips course the path of hard muscle down to his pants β eunyu has her mouth pressed against his, not exactly kissing but letting him feel her hot breaths, the way her teeth nip at his lips in a wanton grin. she nods, and their noses nuzzle. )
Put your hands behind your back.
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He releases a soft needy sound as she bites at his lips, almost a whimper. It might be embarrassing if he was with anyone but Eunyu.
He puts his hands behind his back, lacing his fingers together to resist any temptation to break with the command before she's ready.]
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