Open RP Post

[andfire]

Open RP Post

♦ All characters are allowed to interact, regardless of being in a game with Elsa or not.
♠ This is an IC-spam post; only character journals, please.
♥ Doubles and threadjacking are allowed for maximum derp.
♣ 4th-walling: is allowed; Elsa can take it. She will likely just think you're crazy.
♦ Wank and OOC matters will be deleted.
♠ Crit will be redirected to the HMD

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This post has no established setting, to allow for any sort of thread. Voicetesting, smut, derp, violence, angst, crack, memes, any other shenanigans I might be missing are acceptable.

Also backtagging.

Lots of backtagging.

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Comments

[andfire]

It lacks the frenetic, uncontrollable quality of before. And while she thinks she prefers the feeling of throwing all caution to the wind, of fucking him until the headboard cracks against the wall and her insides are almost numb with beautiful pain, there's something inherently special about this. Slow, steady, grounding... it's more like a slow burn than a whipping wildfire.

There's sweat beading along her forehead, above her top lip, along the back of her neck, spreading along her back. She can feel her hair sticking to the skin, and there's something strangely beautiful about it. Primal, almost. Her lips peel back and there's a sound in the air, a withered sort of moan as she twists and turns with him, digging her nails into the small of his back as if to drive him deeper.

Her hands move up and down his sides, fingertips rippling over his ribcage until her hands meet her knees, and back up again. They map his chest, and the column of his throat. Touching, feeling, experiencing. Her fingers curve around the back of his neck.

Even as he thrusts, and her body moves with each movement, the muscles in her stomach tighten as she curls up toward him, using her grip on the back of his neck for leverage, and leaves a kiss against the hollow of his throat. And another at the curve of his shoulder.

He thrusts, and it burns beautifully, and she gasps loudly. Without thinking, her teeth graze sharply against his skin.

[venerance]

Some how, he felt it was unfair how unevenly matched they were. She was making him feel as if he was a boiling pot threatening to bubble over. She was beauty and grace but there was a kinetic energy between them that felt more fierce and precarious than anything he's ever really felt for another person. It made him want to snatch her up like a butterfly in a glass jar and maybe even rip her wings off so that she couldn't fly away from him. That was a dangerous thought to have.

Her fingers and then her mouth on his skin draw shivers and when her teeth scrape the surface he can't help but groan. He worships what inches of her he can touch in such an awkward position he's created. It isn't much for him to decide maybe he will stop being so painful in this and making her curl up cramped between him and the headboard. He presses her into the mess of bedding and pillows, still holding onto the headboard with one hand and groaning into her ear in an attempt to voice his pleasure at their mutual physical needs being met.

His free hand tangles in her messy hair while his own mouth descends on her throat, mimicking the scrape of teeth she had done on his skin earlier. He knows if he isn't careful he could very well wind up sinking his teeth into her throat, that thread of self restraint lost. It was amazing he had any of that left, what with how far he was trying to push her physically.

[andfire]

She can hear the faint slick of body meeting body, and the sound is so primal and arousing that it draws a steady rhythm of wanton sounds from the back of her throat. Heady calls next to his ear and in the air, wordless and yet unmistakable.

Someone has probably heard them. If she had half a mind to think it, she might even suspect someone to take a broom handle to the wall, or maybe the ceiling or floor, to tell them to quiet. Normally, the thought would be enough to make her stifle herself -- and yet she isn't in half a mind to think it.

(To hell with them, she actually thinks, and presses herself back into the pillows and against the headboard as best as she can, as comfortably as she can.)

She reaches for his face, hands splaying out over his cheeks with thumbs caressing just along his cheek bones, and directing him to look directly at her.

If you're going to fuck me, you're going to look at me when you do it.

The thought is incredibly wild, almost uncharacteristic of her. Even moreso that she almost wants to snap it at him between his thrusts and her moans, but instead she draws him down so that his forehead is touched to hers.

And oh. Oh. Whatever he did just now, it's perfect.

She's not sure how to explain this to him, especially in the heat of the moment, and so she just cants her head so that her nose clumsily brushes against his, and she lets out a breathy, "There."