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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
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?
no subject
( 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
( 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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
she sinks lower to the ground, dropping her mouth on his chest, fingers trailing lower, doing a coy dance around the waistband of his pants. it's a little unconscious once she finally undoes the front of them βΒ she's mouthing at his collarbone, leaning down lower to pop a nipple into her mouth and sink her teeth into the sensitive flesh, and it just comes open from her fondling, her unknowing desires, like an omen. she pulls his cock out, unthinking. stroking her hand up and down the velvety length of him, a little awkward from inexperience, but not lacking in intense interest βΒ she moans against the center of his chest, leaning back to rub the swollen head of his cock against her stomach.
a fascinating thought, to know he has no idea what he's rutting against. his cock leaves creamy little smudges of precum on her skin. she imagines them elsewhere, lower. what that would look like. )
What do you think you're rubbing on?
( she's curious to know, desperate: what do you hope your cock is touching on me? )
no subject
She might have appeared uncertain and anxious before but she seems to be finding her footing now, and it's incredible. He likes the feel of her weight on top of him and her mouth against his skin. When she bites him his breath catches and he can't stop himself from twisting his beneath her because at this point he's so hard it's becoming painful. He's breathless and flushed and when he feels her hand around his cock he moans, startled.
How does she feel so good. It's just her hand, isn't it? But no, it's more than that, she's rubbing him against other parts of herself.
He wonders if it's possible for his brain to short circuit because he sort of feels like that's what's happening.
At her question his breath stutters and he can't find his voice immediately, and when he does it's raw.]
Your thighs...
[It's literally just the first thing that comes to mind and it's mostly because he likes her legs. He realizes after he says it that it doesn't necessarily make sense, it doesn't really feel like her thigh if he thinks about it. But how is he supposed to think right now, honestly? He moans again, overwhelmed.]
Or...I don't know...you feel so good.
[He's just rambling now, and trying desperately to keep his eyes closed.]
no subject
( she offers, giddy at how easily undone hyunsu is. she's smiling, and she knows he'd like to see it, but it's already been established that he's a good boy, and so his eyes stay closed, obedient. carefully, eunyu lowers herself, open mouth spread against his abdomen. more on a level, she lets his cockhead rub against the soft skin between her breasts, shuddering, grateful she didn't wear a bra. even if it still feels weird to be naked and outside at the same time. )
That was my stomach. Now β ( she tilts her head down so she can watch, angling his cock against her breast, circling her nipple. ) a little, ah, higher.
( thighs are a thought, though. it feels like a very ancient way of getting off β something eunyu tucks away for the nearest future, trying to see this whole thing like a stage act in parts. point a to point b. probably overthinking, but not wanting to come across like she didn't think about it all, which of course she hadn't, not really. not down to the nitty gritty, at least βΒ in that ambivalent i want him way, sure. a hundred times. now? she lifts her hand to spit in the palm of it, gathering hyunsu's cock back in her fist with a gentle, considering stroke. it feels like a giant step to actually put him in her mouth, which she isn't sure she's ready for,Β but also. thinking about hyunsu's reaction is, decidedly, addictive.
halfway point, then. she bends lower, skittish, and licks her tongue from the tip of his cock to the base, before peering up at him, flushed, breathing hard, squirming. )
I know what we should do.
no subject
And he's so overwhelmed by that moment that he can barely make sense of it when she starts stroking him and then when he feels her warm tongue on his cock. He has to work desperately to keep his hips still and he can't stop himself from moaning this time.]
Eunyu-- [was that your tongue? he wants to ask, but doesn't because he's not actually capable of stringing that many words together at once right now. And anyway, she's speaking again, not that he can make any sense of it.] What?
no subject
( she asks, feeling a little rotten at making him keep his eyes closed while her hands leave him βΒ it's not a test, but it does feel like one, as if measuring the bounds of hyunsu's obedience. if he opened his eyes, she wouldn't blame him, wouldn't get mad. would probably feel excessively embarrassed, but βΒ she has to imagine, not for very long.
she rambles, so he doesn't think she's leaving. )
I'm just grabbing my dress, since the floor is dirty. ( she lays it out between his bent knees, slightly shaky hands futzing it into anxious, straight lines. ) I know you like my thighs. You can have that. I mean βΒ that's a kink too, I think. I don't know how much even counts for the game, to get the doors open. I could ...
( check, except she's in it now and doesn't want to stop, so she just doesn't finish her sentence, pretending it wasn't there in the first place. she lays herself down on her dress like they're about to fuck missionary, but both her legs drape over one of his hips, a space left wide enough to tuck his cock between her thighs. she closes her legs, giving him friction. rocks her hips forward and back, sighing. )
You can βΒ use your hands. Hold onto my legs. Can you feel them? ( she lifts a hand up to bite at her knuckle, knowing that this is probably when she's supposed to tell him to open, to look at her, but she just βΒ can't. ) Move your hips until it feels good.
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He tilts his head as he listens to her speak but doesn't raise any complaints. Then he feels her legs against his hip and his cock between her thighs and he chokes on a gasp. He's lightheaded from arousal and disoriented from keeping his eyes closed for so long, so he's a little clumsier than usual when he moves to grasp at her legs, but he tries to be gentle about it.
He moves his hips experimentally and bites his lip on a groan. Her skin is soft and warm, but the muscle beneath is firm and it feels so good. But he's still holding himself back a little.]
You'll tell me if it hurts? Or...if I do it wrong?
[He really has no idea what he's doing and he can't see her, so the only cues he'll have about how she feels about it will be the things she says.]
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( it feels good, actually. strangely. eunyu doesn't exactly relish the feeling of anyone on top of her, but hyunsu's weight is a welcome additive, one she finds herself reaching for more of, hands cupping his face, dragging him in closer. implicit trust is so sewn into her when it comes to hyunsu, she doesn't even panic, doesn't even think to. a lifetime of ballet practice has seen eunyu retain flexibility and strength βΒ her legs pin easily towards her chest, no resistance found.
anyway, making him close his eyes seems silly all of a sudden. she can hear the hesitation in his voice and know that it's her fault for putting it there, letting doubt creep in where her own discomfort took root. it's not like she actually thinks hyunsu won't like what he sees, and not like she'd want to fuck him if he didn't. she's just never been naked in front of anyone before β but, as mentioned, this is hyunsu. it's different. )
You can open. ( whispered out. she's pulled hyunsu close enough to her now that her breath is on him, a slightly shy smile on her face. a hand palms down his side, just to feel his muscles flex when he pushes forward. ) Go harder. I'm not delicate.
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His eyes flutter open at her command and it takes him a moment to adjust. To the light as well as to the sight of her underneath him. His breath catches as his eyes focus on her. She's beautiful, he thinks, which he knew already, but it's something else to have the proof right there before his eyes. He didn't think he could get harder than he already was, but apparently he was wrong. His cock is throbbing painfully between her thighs.
Which is why when she tells him to go harder, he does. This part of him is a little too greedy not to. It takes him a moment, but once he finds a rhythm that feels right he's rutting desperately against her legs, breathless and flushed, his hair sticking to the thin sheen of sweat on his brow. And the whole time he's looking at her. Now that she's granted him permission he can't bring himself to take his eyes off her.]
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probably not like this. not on her back β her on top? teeth sink into her lower lip, affectionately palming back hyunsuβs sweaty hair, skirting over his shoulders, down his back. eventually she pushes his pants down enough to grab his ass, pulling him back into her, letting out a contented moan. )
Good β thatβs good. ( she tilts her chin up to beg for a kiss, gesturing him in with a nod of her head. ) Youβre my good boy, arenβt you?
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It does make him a little, more frantic, though. And when he kisses her it's clumsier than it was earlier.]
Yeah. [He murmurs against her mouth between kisses.] I am. I want to be. [He won't last much longer, though. She feels too good and looks too good and he doesn't have the experience yet to hold out for very long. Breathlessly he nuzzles her cheek.] Eunyu...I'm getting close...
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( she's already nodding before he gets the words out, under some kind of needy spell in watching hyunsu take his pleasure. she's just addicted to him, all the time but especially like this, letting him be greedy and liking how it looks on him, her body instinctively rocking with every thrust of his hips. her fingernails dig into him, yanking him closer. eunyu will never want to be pinned, with her hands above her head or her ankles tied βΒ but she likes hyunsu's weight, finds it comforting. she's not really naked, when she's wearing him like a blanket.
a free hand lifts to her mouth, spitting on her fingertips, using the excess of wet to brush against hyunsu's cockhead every time it pushes through her thighs. it makes the motion more seamless, easier as hyunsu gets closer. )
I wanna see.
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Fuck--
[When he comes it's a sudden and intense burst of pleasure that somehow surprises him even though he knew it was on the way. He moans helplessly, spilling cum over her legs and maybe her fingers, too, he's too lost in it to be sure. He might feel embarrassed about the mess later but for now he doesn't care. He manages to shift just enough so that when he collapses, breathless and limp in the aftermath, he flops a little to the side of her so as to not pin her fully underneath him.]
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it's hot, like oil in a pan. hyunsu collapses and eunyu smiles privately to herself, lifting her hand up to see the little pearls of his cum clinging to her fingertips. on a whim, she pops one in her mouth, just to experience it. by the time she pulls her finger out, she tilts her head to watch him up close, leaning in so their foreheads touch.
she waits until he opens his eyes to look at her, how full of good humor she is. whispered, ) Hi.
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Hi.
[The corners of his mouth tick upward slightly in a soft smile. This is another happy memory, he thinks.]
You're all right?
[She certainly seems to be, but she had seemed so nervous at the start, and he feels like he got rough toward the end. It still feels like it's worth asking.]
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Yeah. ( lingering, she steals a kiss from him, lips a little soft and sore from being bitten into so much. ) Think that was kinky enough? Or should I find a ball gag, or something?
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But actually it's a valid question, he'd almost forgotten where they were and why.]
I...think so.
[He has no idea, honestly, but it seems like it should be enough. It's just hard to know what the house wants from them sometimes.]
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( she watches him a little expectantly, like she's waiting for something, although she has no idea what. it's not especially hard to reason out, though. obviously what she's craving is being held or touched in some way, but when she figures that out eunyu disentangles herself instead, feeling silly, and standing up, feeling awkward about her nudity. on the altar lays her abandoned underwear, which she uses like a rag to clean up hyunsu's orgasm from her stomach and fingers, blushing profusely while she does it.
eventually she extends a hand in hyunsu's direction, making grabby fingers at him. )
My dress.
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Then she asked for her dress and he realizes...oh yes, he's laying on it. At least partially, anyway. He shifts and picks it up off the floor, doing his best to brush some of the dirt and dust off it before offering it back to her.]
Sorry.
[He realizes, then, belatedly, that he should probably pull his pants up. Which he does, once she's taken her dress back. Very smooth.]
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belatedly, after realizing she was staring, eunyu snaps back into focus, rushing through pulling her dress on and dusting it off, organizing her boobs in the bodice top. )
Um. Did you ... ( finding his shirt on the ground, she picks it up, though doesn't hand it over right away. hyunsu is stupid handsome, especially without it. eunyu does an uncomfortable bouncing step from one foot to the other while staring at his torso, some distant relative of the i need to pee dance. after a second, she reaches out for hyunsu's hand squeezing it. ) You okay?
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He does relax a little as she reaches for his hand. Maybe he didn't fuck up after all. Or, at least, not badly.] Yeah. [He moves a little closer to her.] What about you? You didn't... [she didn't get off, not like he did, though she's clearly aroused. But how does one ask a girl if she wants to orgasm? Hyunsu actually has no idea.]
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