【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-Star Resort and Casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
Due to unprecedented high demand we are temporarily unable to check you in to your reserved room. We apologize for the inconvenience. We have arranged for a temporary room while we work on processing your reservation as quickly as possible. We appreciate your understanding.
As a special wedding gift from us, we have arranged for you and your new spouse to stay in one of our junior penthouses while you wait. Congratulations on your new marriage. We are so pleased you have chosen our resort for your honeymoon.
You will be notified as soon as your official reservation has been processed. Your comfort and happiness are our utmost priority. We hope you enjoy the provided amenities and lose yourself in marital bliss. 】
EVENS
EVENS: NEW CHARACTERS
Music plays. Instrumental, the tune gentle enough not to disturb peaceful rest. The sudden insistent beep of the Watch is a cutting cacophony across an otherwise sweet lullaby. Upon opening their eyes, new arrivals will quickly discover that something is wrong. The quilt snug across their body is weighty. Crystals glint in a weave of embroidery and cotton shimmers with threads of silver. Dozens of decorative pillows surround the bed. The gauzy curtains of the canopied bed are drawn, obscuring the rest of the room.
Extravagant for a kidnapping. Too extravagent. What’s more, these new guests will find something even stranger than this new diamond-studded suite tucked into bed beside them. Someone else. Who are they, what are they wearing? What happened last night?!
Guests are encouraged to explore the resort from here! There are paper maps available for those who would like and staff are happy to recommend locations if they have any preferences. Enjoy your honeymoon, you lovebirds!
ODDS
ODDS: SPECIAL RE-ARRIVAL
Never trust a hallway in the Golden peacock.
Cross the wrong threshold and time begins to slow. A short hallway becomes long, sheds its doors, only leading to turns without end. Guests too eager to explore the resort have gotten lost before. For how long always varies, dependent upon capriciousness of the resort. Hours? Yes. Years? Yes. Every guest caught in the winding hallways has reported the same thing: time is different there and too difficult to discern.
Some wayward guests have been caught in the endless hallways since the FIRST TDM. Weeks pass before a single doorway appears in the distance. It creaks upon opening before everything goes topsy-turvy. These guests have been let out of a trap door in the depths of Crane's Respite.
All water corridors will eventually lead back to the populated areas of Crane's Respite. The waters are warm, the scent of bath salts returns, and staff are wild with joy at finally finding all of you. They have been beside themselves searching ever since you vanished!
NOTES
PROMPT NOTES
▶ Because we love all of the new characters premiering on this TDM, we kindly request that our Evens prompt be top level exclusive for new characters. Current characters are encouraged to tag in to these prompts with the caveat that they’ve been picked up from their assigned suite (or wherever else they were before) and dumped into the new arrival’s bed. We would like for new characters to have this prompt unique to their top level comments!
▶ Players are welcome to have their current character riff off of these prompts in the log community with the exclusion of the new arrival element. This request is just for TDM top levels.
▶ Current characters and new characters are both welcome to freely mess around with the Odds prompt with the exclusion of the arrival element. For new characters, players may participate with the idea that their character is exploring Crane’s Respite after their unique arrival in the Evens prompt. The Odds arrival element may also be utilized by current player characters who may have been on an unofficial hiatus in January and did not tag as much as they would have liked, to explain any long IC absence.
▶ Octopi may be killed. If a character decides to eat one of the octopi they may find themselves taking on some of its traits. Which traits are up to player discretion.
ELEVATORS
ELEVATORS
The house has recently ordered a full changeout of art in all high traffic areas. The elevators in particular have received special attention with many different famous artworks and portraits studded to the walls for guests to admire. These artworks are treasures of the modern world that one would typically see behind glass at a museum. Guests may even find works from their own world hanging in the elevators. Even famous works that maybe have been lost to time. So this is where they ended up. Is that Vermeer's The Concert?
Guests may find their elevator suddenly stopping without warning. The portraits on the wall stir, curiously studying them, but there are three main portraits calling the shots. The portrait that controls that particular elevator will make their demands known with the threat that, if they are not obeyed, you will be trapped forever.
Elevators will function after the portrait's demands are met. Guests that hold out and refuse may find themselves trapped upwards of twelve hours. Guests with the ability to do so may crawl out of the top emergency door, free to go wherever they want from there.
GREAT TIT!
GREAT TIT!
Great Tit! is the Golden Peacock’s popular dessert bar and cafe. With its bright pops of color and whimsical treats, guests simply can’t resist stopping in for a butt shaped cookie and hazelnut coffee. After catching wind that the resort has decided to celebrate a dessert shop's most lucrative holiday, Great Tit! is ready to impress the masses. Advertisements for limited edition drinks and desserts rain the main lobby; one can’t go three steps without slipping on a neon pink coupon for 10 percent off nipple buns. Guests that decide to pass by the cafe will find themselves assaulted with confetti cannons and eager employees ushering them inside.
Guests will find a temporary communal shower room upon exiting Great Tit! where they can wash off after a fun day of rolling around in sugar. All guests will be gifted a tee branded with a, CHOCOLATE IS MY LOVER logo.
NOTES
PROMPT NOTES
▶ This portraits prompt has been triggered by several characters expressing interest in and investigating the lore of the resort paintings. This is just dipping a beginning toe in, but congrats to all for poking around!
▶ Portraits in the elevator should not be destroyed, purely for continuity’s sake. If a character would go far enough to attack one of the portraits, the portrait will slap them back with ghostly power.
▶ Characters may also figure other ways out of the elevator if they have specific abilities to do so. While the portraits can control the elevators, they cannot control your character(s). Any destruction to the elevator itself is liable to result in a rush of security dragging the culprit(s) away to the Iron Net.
▶ Great Tit! is running a massive sale! Even characters who are on the broke end of the spectrum will be able to afford to join in on the fun and indulge in sugar at these prices.
▶ Players are encouraged to make up any other elements for the Hall of Chocolate. If it’s a dessert and edible, it’s there. Enjoy your sugar coma!
▶ While the chocolate boxes are ICly limited due to Alessandro’s skills as a chocolatier, this is only an IC mechanic. There is no OOC limitation on this prompt as far as chocolate rarity goes.
THE NEST
ALICE AND THE PARROTS
Fashion boutiques are a dime a dozen in the Nest. The shopping hub is massive, lined with stores all trying to aggressively appeal to guests. A challenge in itself — but the guests of the Golden Peacock are no ordinary people. Used to being pampered and fed excitement, if these boutiques don’t bust their bottoms to appeal to the fickle nature of their patrons, they won’t be in business for much longer! One particular boutique, Alice and the Parrots, is riding winds of romantic thrill and churning out a couple of brand new fashion lines sure to draw in loads of chips.
Guests are welcome to try on clothes in Alice and the Parrots' dressing rooms. These dressing rooms are small and can only accommodate two people sharing at a time. Such is the life of a small boutique store. Sharing is no big deal, right? And there’s no way you can buy clothing this expensive without giving it a test first.
NOTES
PROMPT NOTES
▶ Players are encouraged to make up whatever cute outfits they would like for this prompt.
▶ Wedding clothes do not have to be cute and frilly; this section accommodates tastes of everyone.
▶ Alice and the Parrots is more expensive than Love Dove. Their clothing quality is excellent but their price tags are high. Staff may watch low ranks extra diligently to cut off any stealing. Thieves will be chased by NPC security! Anyone caught gets a day in the Iron Net.
CASINO CHAPEL
CASINO FLOOR
A Pop up Chapel has appeared in the Phoenix Casino. Guests are delighting in playing out weddings and pretending to get married — and a few guests are even tying the knot for real. They aren't worried about the sanctity of marriage; they can divorce tomorrow if they get bored of each other. And everyone knows that getting married doesn't mean you can't fuck whoever you want!
Since the resort isn't keeping track of how many marriages a guest has, all guests are encouraged to marry as many people as they would like. The more the merrier!
Wild wedding events will continue all throughout the month of February, until the guests find it's gotten stale. A divorce rush will round out the fun at the end of the month.
NOTES
PROMPT NOTES
▶ Weddings are not legally binding. Birdvis is not registered as a real officiant, but he does have an excellent beak and pompadour.
▶ Prizes from easy mode slot machines are automatic and do not require mod thumbs up to claim.
▶ Chip prize from difficult mode slot machines is automatic. The special prize is 5 reward points to add to your bank on rewards. Players who wish to claim the special prize should link the finished thread (the kink in question has been completed) under their rewards header with the header, Wedding Slot Machine. If you do any combination of 6/6 (finger hand lol) we ask you somehow make this sexy or involve a climax in order to claim the points.
BLANKET CW: Aphrodisiac; Compulsion; Costumes; Dubcon; Entrapment; Foodplay; Gambling; Lingerie; Matrimony; Tentacles; NSFW Images and Language; NTR; Nudity; Roleplay; Sacrilegious Themes
▶ All new characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. The house is still observing and deciding. As rank and suits are assigned upon acceptance your new character's suit will not manifest until they are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's February event.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Please make sure to review the arrival prompt notes! Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are priority and receive attention!
▶ If you aren't satisfied with the prompts on this TDM please feel free to check out our LOCATIONS to explore more of the resort.
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread anyway!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
▶ Thank you for spending Valentine's Day with us! You're our sweetheart this year. 💕
[ aerith is right: tseng has only ever put his hands on her to make her do something she doesn't want to do, or go somewhere she doesn't want to go. but as she takes hold of his wrist to shift his grip from hesitant to tender, more affectionate, tseng thinks that this is the first time he's ever touched her skin.
she's warm. warm, and soft, and she smells like the garden in the yard of the house in the sector 5 slums, sweet and inviting. ]
I don't blush. [ tseng lifts his other hand and brushes a strand of hair back out of aerith's face, tucks it behind her ear. traces his fingertips along the shape of it while he's there, the delicate shell. he's never done anything by half-measures, after all.
leaning down so that their faces are almost touching, tseng brings his lips close to her ear—his mouth obscured, pressed to her cheekbone so the paintings can neither see nor hear him—and whispers, ] Stop me if I go too far.
[ no fair, we can't hear you! one of the ladies in the painting complains, but tseng is already moving, careful and slow as he walks aerith back across the elevator, as he presses her back against the wall and crowds her there with his larger frame. his hand is still pressed to her cheek, and his other hand comes to rest at the juncture where her shoulder meets her throat, his fingers curling loosely around the back of her neck.
he doesn't kiss her, but it would be obvious even to the blind that he's about to. ]
What else is there to do with the words 'I don't blush' reverberating around inside her head? It's a challenge she has no business being interested in taking him up on, a line drawn in the sand she'll skip right across without thinking about, lured in by the liquid amber of his eyes and the measured murmur of his voice when he leans in to whisper against her cheek.
Her skin feels hot under his hands, her nerves buzzing with the slow awakening of a feeling that's likely always existed beneath the surface, but never had a chance to blossom. It's a knot for later, an enigma laden with rough edges, threaded through with the weight of years and all the mess they've contained.
She'll tell herself it was more about keeping herself on even footing than want but there's no missing the warmth nearly radiating off of her as she rolls onto the balls of her feet, bridging their difference in height before her lips touch his, tentatively at first, like she's touched something electrified and gotten a little shock on first contact, before she moves in, pressed lightly against the wall but still managing to fill his space as much as he does hers. ]
[ it's a shock tseng feels too, the instant their lips touch. he's spent his entire career pretending to see aerith as nothing more than an asset (or a liability, depending on the day), pretending that he doesn't view her as a woman—but the way she pushes up on the balls of her feet to seal their mouths together makes it very, very difficult to keep pretending.
she's just so warm. her skin is flushed under tseng's touch, and her body arches up against his, and tseng finds his focus split between two sensations—the heat of her in a long line against his front, and the sweetness of her lips under his. this is more dangerous than tseng thought it would be, the risk much greater—but he's still not blushing, and that's what counts.
the ladies in the painting are giggling, but the elevator doesn't start to move. still gentle, tseng coaxes aerith's lips to part, coaxes her to let him deepen the kiss—their tongues slide together and it's a sensation so electric that it hooks somewhere behind his navel, sends a quiet jolt right through him. ]
[ Like his hands, she's surprised by the softness of his hair, her fingers disrupting the sleek, dark fall, tangling through it, curious and delicate - almost reverent. The knowledge that this isn't the first and only time she's thought of touching his hair weighing on her heart, another addition to the mountain of inner conflict she may not make it out of the elevator without getting crushed beneath.
'They've thought about this,' says one of the paintings before another chimes in, finishing the first's thought– 'You can tell.'
She wants nothing more than to be indignant about being called out like this, but his tongue licks deftly into her mouth when she parts her lips for him, and Aerith forgets to be annoyed, too busy trying to fight the breathless hum that escapes her, and failing miserably in the process, her body arching between him and the wall behind her, leaving her form pressing more insistently to his. ]
[ were it not for that sound she makes, tseng might have been tempted to pull back and say something rude to the painting—but aerith hums in the back of her throat, soft against his mouth, and tseng finds that for a moment, he can't think of anything else. the hand that had been pressed to her cheek drops down to wrap around her waist instead, pulling her close—pulling her against him in full, no space between them remaining.
this is also a risk. it means less plausible deniability, makes it more difficult to pull away if need be. but it also means a fuller appreciation of just how warm aerith is, how good she feels, how nice she smells.
(fuck, he's in trouble.)
almost without thinking about it, tseng draws aerith close enough that his thigh slips between hers—he's too busy keeping an iron grip on his focus, directing it all toward the kiss, and doesn't manage to regulate the rest of what his body is doing. it doesn't escape the notice of the paintings, though, who gasp in unison and then dissolve into giggles. ]
[ Her skirt rustles as his thigh slips between hers, leaving her no way to conceal the tell-tale warmth already radiating from between her legs, muted by the barriers of fabric between them, but impossible to explain away as a byproduct of blushing.
Because she's not blushing - there's no space for it, no room for embarrassment when she can smell his skin and taste his mouth on her tongue. The gravity between them overpowering the pull of common sense in spectacular fashion, making it so that when she pulls back, it's not because she's seeking space, but because she can't stop herself from looking at him. About a thousand and one different emotions parade their way through her eyes while she searches his face, taking in all the fine details she's spotted at a distance but never gotten close enough to memorize. Later, just the fact that she wanted to this much will keep her up, but for now, Aerith drinks in the sight of him, her tongue skimming over her bottom lip, already slick from his mouth and slightly swollen, taking in the color of his eyes and the canopy of lashes framing them.
It almost seems like a more reckless way to seize the moment than kissing him, but she's spent enough time with loss to back down from seizing the moment when she can.
And she does.
The space between them doesn't have a chance to exist for very long, and it's barely more than a handful of heartbeats before Aerith's mouth claims his in another kiss, another noise, this one softer, more insistent than the last sounds low in her chest, ebbing off into a smothered whimper as her hips tip forward, on the verge of letting herself grind against his leg and make a hazard situation all the worse. ]
[ would that he could blame this on something other than just an enclosed space—some kind of aphrodisiac, maybe, a drug in his system. a compulsion he wouldn't be able to resist if he tried. it seems like that might make it easier. but no—as aerith pulls back and looks up at him, the lust that hooks its claws in him has nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the devastating shape of her wet, flushed mouth.
tseng says nothing. there's nothing to say, when he's sure the thousand and one emotions in her eyes are clearly reflected in his own, and anyway tseng isn't sure he could find the words.
instead he just presses back in to kiss her again, no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to the giggling and whispering from the painting behind them. he can feel the way she shifts just slightly, poised on the edge of riding his thigh—and who is tseng to discourage her? his hand drops from around her waist down over the tulle of her skirt, coming to rest against her ass and urging her hips against him.
it's only fair, he thinks, that he be able to feel her as clearly as she can surely feel his own erection pressing against her hip through the thicker fabric of his jeans. ]
[ Surely by now, they've risen to the challenge the painting set out for them, but Aerith's too far removed from somewhere that thought might occur to her. Just like the idea of coming to her senses and putting some space between herself and Tseng, it's a notion that becomes increasingly more distant the longer she's pressed up against him like this. She can feel her hips rock, urged on by the hand he slides under her skirt to palm her ass, and the rising pitch of her desire, spurred on by his mouth on hers and the firm press of his hardening cock against her hip.
Not wanting to give up the fingers purposefully caught in the silk of his hair, Aerith spares one hand to run down Tseng's body, curious and eager as she lets her palm flatten against him, feeling out the shape of him before settling on his hip. Through the haze, there are at least a few molecules of restraint hanging on, making her hesitate for a respectable ten whole seconds before want wins out again, and her palm moves to massage his cock through his jeans. ]
[ even if that was all he got, that drag of aerith's palm over his chest and stomach and down to his hip—if that was all she gave him, tseng would be content with the fact of having been touched by her. and for those ten seconds as her hand pauses at his hip, he thinks that's all he will get, until she shifts again and presses her hand right against the bulge of his cock through the thick fabric of his jeans.
tseng is, by nature, a man of few words in both his personal and his professional lives. he prefers to be reticent, to leave the noisemaking to reno, to choose his words carefully so that they have weight when they're used. but aerith's palm against him drives an unexpected noise from him. it's a catch of his breath, almost a moan caught in the back of his throat, the sound muffled against aerith's mouth but still audible in the quiet between them.
it's also her palm that snaps the very last thread of tseng's self-control. his hand moves from her ass and over her thigh, shifting under the fabric of her skirt and hiking it up over his wrist; he withdraws his thigh from between hers, only enough so that he can make room for his hand to slip into her panties.
stop me if i go too far, he had told her. but she hasn't stopped him yet, and assuming she doesn't stop him now, tseng curls his fingers against her clit to rub slow circles there, focusing intently on how she responds. ]
[ In a(nother) different version of the world they lived in, she wouldn't feel the twist of conflict she does now, with her hand curving tightly around the shape of his cock while his works between her thighs, fingers stroking over her clit and leaving her gasping right along with the painting behind them. Wanting him like this is out of line, out of the question, a misguided desire neither of them has any business feeling, much less indulging in, but he's made it impossible for her to do anything but seek out more of him.
Her head is swimming too much to be sure, but Aerith thinks she can hear one of the figures in the painting mutter to the other about enemies to lovers and how hot that is, not that she's in any position to fire off a rebuff. Right now, there's little beyond the steadily building ache that flares earnestly with every brush of his fingertips.
Aerith's hand feels hot against his cock, massaging the shape of him before urgency finds her moving away again to tug the fly of his jeans open, her hand delving beneath the fabric of his clothes and fisting loosely around his cock, another moan stifled against his mouth as she relishes in feeling him like this. ]
[ it's impossible to deny that every warning klaxon in tseng's head is ringing in unison right now, telling him how bad an idea it is to put himself in this position with aerith. it is absolutely going to complicate their working relationship, insofar as they have a working relationship in this place, if tseng can't lay eyes on her without thinking about what she looks like when she comes.
but through the haze of desire enveloping tseng's brain, his conclusion isn't that he shouldn't do this. his conclusion is that he just won't look at her when she comes, and that'll make all the difference. right? right.
her deft fingers find the button and zip of his jeans, tugging the fly open so she can work her hand inside. tseng inhales sharply against her mouth as those careful fingers circle the girth of him, and his cock twitches obviously in her grip, a response both to her touch and to the sound of her moan. to be honest, he doesn't even hear the little quip from the paintings—he's too busy letting his world narrow down to this, to her, to her hand and her mouth and the warmth of her body.
in response, or perhaps in reward, tseng pushes his fingers deeper into her panties, curling them just right to slide both of them inside her cunt. she's so wet, so hot inside, enough that the slide alone makes him swallow back a noise, enough that when he starts to fuck her with those fingers the slick sound of them is audible even under their combined breathing. he moves his hand slowly for now, but deep and intentional, his fingers pressing forward against her inner walls to make sure he rubs in the right places each time he withdraws and pushes in again. ]
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peacockstop2024-02-10 11:29 am
no subject
she's warm. warm, and soft, and she smells like the garden in the yard of the house in the sector 5 slums, sweet and inviting. ]
I don't blush. [ tseng lifts his other hand and brushes a strand of hair back out of aerith's face, tucks it behind her ear. traces his fingertips along the shape of it while he's there, the delicate shell. he's never done anything by half-measures, after all.
leaning down so that their faces are almost touching, tseng brings his lips close to her ear—his mouth obscured, pressed to her cheekbone so the paintings can neither see nor hear him—and whispers, ] Stop me if I go too far.
[ no fair, we can't hear you! one of the ladies in the painting complains, but tseng is already moving, careful and slow as he walks aerith back across the elevator, as he presses her back against the wall and crowds her there with his larger frame. his hand is still pressed to her cheek, and his other hand comes to rest at the juncture where her shoulder meets her throat, his fingers curling loosely around the back of her neck.
he doesn't kiss her, but it would be obvious even to the blind that he's about to. ]
no subject
What else is there to do with the words 'I don't blush' reverberating around inside her head? It's a challenge she has no business being interested in taking him up on, a line drawn in the sand she'll skip right across without thinking about, lured in by the liquid amber of his eyes and the measured murmur of his voice when he leans in to whisper against her cheek.
Her skin feels hot under his hands, her nerves buzzing with the slow awakening of a feeling that's likely always existed beneath the surface, but never had a chance to blossom. It's a knot for later, an enigma laden with rough edges, threaded through with the weight of years and all the mess they've contained.
She'll tell herself it was more about keeping herself on even footing than want but there's no missing the warmth nearly radiating off of her as she rolls onto the balls of her feet, bridging their difference in height before her lips touch his, tentatively at first, like she's touched something electrified and gotten a little shock on first contact, before she moves in, pressed lightly against the wall but still managing to fill his space as much as he does hers. ]
no subject
she's just so warm. her skin is flushed under tseng's touch, and her body arches up against his, and tseng finds his focus split between two sensations—the heat of her in a long line against his front, and the sweetness of her lips under his. this is more dangerous than tseng thought it would be, the risk much greater—but he's still not blushing, and that's what counts.
the ladies in the painting are giggling, but the elevator doesn't start to move. still gentle, tseng coaxes aerith's lips to part, coaxes her to let him deepen the kiss—their tongues slide together and it's a sensation so electric that it hooks somewhere behind his navel, sends a quiet jolt right through him. ]
no subject
'They've thought about this,' says one of the paintings before another chimes in, finishing the first's thought– 'You can tell.'
She wants nothing more than to be indignant about being called out like this, but his tongue licks deftly into her mouth when she parts her lips for him, and Aerith forgets to be annoyed, too busy trying to fight the breathless hum that escapes her, and failing miserably in the process, her body arching between him and the wall behind her, leaving her form pressing more insistently to his. ]
no subject
this is also a risk. it means less plausible deniability, makes it more difficult to pull away if need be. but it also means a fuller appreciation of just how warm aerith is, how good she feels, how nice she smells.
(fuck, he's in trouble.)
almost without thinking about it, tseng draws aerith close enough that his thigh slips between hers—he's too busy keeping an iron grip on his focus, directing it all toward the kiss, and doesn't manage to regulate the rest of what his body is doing. it doesn't escape the notice of the paintings, though, who gasp in unison and then dissolve into giggles. ]
no subject
Because she's not blushing - there's no space for it, no room for embarrassment when she can smell his skin and taste his mouth on her tongue. The gravity between them overpowering the pull of common sense in spectacular fashion, making it so that when she pulls back, it's not because she's seeking space, but because she can't stop herself from looking at him. About a thousand and one different emotions parade their way through her eyes while she searches his face, taking in all the fine details she's spotted at a distance but never gotten close enough to memorize. Later, just the fact that she wanted to this much will keep her up, but for now, Aerith drinks in the sight of him, her tongue skimming over her bottom lip, already slick from his mouth and slightly swollen, taking in the color of his eyes and the canopy of lashes framing them.
It almost seems like a more reckless way to seize the moment than kissing him, but she's spent enough time with loss to back down from seizing the moment when she can.
And she does.
The space between them doesn't have a chance to exist for very long, and it's barely more than a handful of heartbeats before Aerith's mouth claims his in another kiss, another noise, this one softer, more insistent than the last sounds low in her chest, ebbing off into a smothered whimper as her hips tip forward, on the verge of letting herself grind against his leg and make a hazard situation all the worse. ]
no subject
tseng says nothing. there's nothing to say, when he's sure the thousand and one emotions in her eyes are clearly reflected in his own, and anyway tseng isn't sure he could find the words.
instead he just presses back in to kiss her again, no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to the giggling and whispering from the painting behind them. he can feel the way she shifts just slightly, poised on the edge of riding his thigh—and who is tseng to discourage her? his hand drops from around her waist down over the tulle of her skirt, coming to rest against her ass and urging her hips against him.
it's only fair, he thinks, that he be able to feel her as clearly as she can surely feel his own erection pressing against her hip through the thicker fabric of his jeans. ]
no subject
Not wanting to give up the fingers purposefully caught in the silk of his hair, Aerith spares one hand to run down Tseng's body, curious and eager as she lets her palm flatten against him, feeling out the shape of him before settling on his hip. Through the haze, there are at least a few molecules of restraint hanging on, making her hesitate for a respectable ten whole seconds before want wins out again, and her palm moves to massage his cock through his jeans. ]
no subject
tseng is, by nature, a man of few words in both his personal and his professional lives. he prefers to be reticent, to leave the noisemaking to reno, to choose his words carefully so that they have weight when they're used. but aerith's palm against him drives an unexpected noise from him. it's a catch of his breath, almost a moan caught in the back of his throat, the sound muffled against aerith's mouth but still audible in the quiet between them.
it's also her palm that snaps the very last thread of tseng's self-control. his hand moves from her ass and over her thigh, shifting under the fabric of her skirt and hiking it up over his wrist; he withdraws his thigh from between hers, only enough so that he can make room for his hand to slip into her panties.
stop me if i go too far, he had told her. but she hasn't stopped him yet, and assuming she doesn't stop him now, tseng curls his fingers against her clit to rub slow circles there, focusing intently on how she responds. ]
no subject
Her head is swimming too much to be sure, but Aerith thinks she can hear one of the figures in the painting mutter to the other about enemies to lovers and how hot that is, not that she's in any position to fire off a rebuff. Right now, there's little beyond the steadily building ache that flares earnestly with every brush of his fingertips.
Aerith's hand feels hot against his cock, massaging the shape of him before urgency finds her moving away again to tug the fly of his jeans open, her hand delving beneath the fabric of his clothes and fisting loosely around his cock, another moan stifled against his mouth as she relishes in feeling him like this. ]
no subject
but through the haze of desire enveloping tseng's brain, his conclusion isn't that he shouldn't do this. his conclusion is that he just won't look at her when she comes, and that'll make all the difference. right? right.
her deft fingers find the button and zip of his jeans, tugging the fly open so she can work her hand inside. tseng inhales sharply against her mouth as those careful fingers circle the girth of him, and his cock twitches obviously in her grip, a response both to her touch and to the sound of her moan. to be honest, he doesn't even hear the little quip from the paintings—he's too busy letting his world narrow down to this, to her, to her hand and her mouth and the warmth of her body.
in response, or perhaps in reward, tseng pushes his fingers deeper into her panties, curling them just right to slide both of them inside her cunt. she's so wet, so hot inside, enough that the slide alone makes him swallow back a noise, enough that when he starts to fuck her with those fingers the slick sound of them is audible even under their combined breathing. he moves his hand slowly for now, but deep and intentional, his fingers pressing forward against her inner walls to make sure he rubs in the right places each time he withdraws and pushes in again. ]
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