𝔄 𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱'𝔰 𝔇𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𑁍 [WINTER TDM]

[gorelord]

Welcome to the Test Drive!

The TDM is welcome to current players and anyone who wants to play in the setting and is encouraged to be used by prospective players. If you are interested in joining the game, you will need to obtain invite from the mod or through an existing member.

For information on the game premise, setting etc, please utilize the navigation pages below. Questions specific to the TDM prompts or the setting can go to the comment thread. Anything else relating to game mechanics can go in the FAQ.

Events in this TDM are considered game canon and occurs immediately after the Chapter II eclipse event between chapters II and III. Any threads in TDM are considered canon as long as both parties agree.

Please make sure to identify in your top levels as either current or new player/characters.

GAME PAGES

premise
setting
faq
rules
glossary

i.
rise:
A Dream's Beginning

(cw:nsfwl; ritual sex, mood altering substances )

It begins with a nightmare, the details of which have slipped through your fingers. Only the curling echo of its dread lingers in your chest. Something has snapped you out of a catatonic state: a gust of icy wind whistling through the crack of a window, the soft beating of drums under the melody of strings, the cold kiss of fat snowflakes catching on your eyelashes, the smell of spiced wine and evergreen.

A few things become clear: You are not where you were, and you are not alone.

Feast for Saints

Tonight is a night of celebration for the Lonely Fortress. The horrors have been set aside, replaced with the warm mirth and grace of being alive. Whether this is your first night in the Crucible or your fortieth, all are welcome to partake in this renewing fete under the silver light of a full buttery moon. Snow dances like flower petals in a lazy array, leaving a shallow blanket of white. The fire roars in the hearth of the Great Hall, spreading its warmth throughout its adjacent parlors. Despite murmurings of a recent catastrophic eclipse cleaving the castle twain, its halls and buildings show no sign of decay. The Egregore has been cleansed, balance has been restored. Spirits are high, people are at ease.

If you choose to partake, there are a few select locations where people have gathered to celebrate:

𑁍The Great Hall is open for feasting and dancing. The fortress stores have provided a wintertime feast of roasted meats & vegetables, pies, fresh and aged cheeses, dried fruits, candied nuts, and seeded cakes. The hall smells of spiced honey wine and mulled cider, both packed with a warm and buzzing inebriation that creeps on unexpectedly. A makeshift band of strings and drums plays lively music for people to dance to.

𑁍The Velvet Parlor is a smaller hall branched off of the main festivities for those looking for softer and more intimate comforts under the candlelight. Tonight, its guests pay tribute to celebrate the passion of life and to beckon the sun to rise in a ritualistic tangling of bodies. Here is the place to become a true eater of sin. All furniture has been nudged to line the walls, making way for a sea of cushions and pillows for celebrants to laze upon as they imbibe in strong, distilled spirits, as the air above them swirls with a sweet, toasty incense imbuing a mellow calm and stirs carnal appetites. A masked man plucks away a sultry tune on his lute in a corner as the night gradually gives way to passionate bodies tangled among the pillows.

𑁍The Courtyard brings a breath of fresh, brisk air as snow falls playfully overhead. Large braziers line the yard offer meager warmth from their roaring fires as exiles partake in snow fights and release wishing lanterns bearing your inner most desires into the sky. Steam rolls off the yard's central fountain, which has been fitted to disperse heated water to provide a makeshift heated pool, a perfect place to thaw chilly hands or feet (or just go all in if ye be bold enough.)

A Colder Path

If instead you choose to abstain, it becomes apparent every dream has its limits.

The castle beyond the festivities is cold, dim, and abandoned. Behind every door, a drab and empty room (if the handle isn't locked or broken). The keep's gates are closed, the sunken village beyond a frozen wasteland. The further one strays from the warmth and merriment, the colder and darker it becomes.

Isolation breeds madness, too much time spent away from others may lead to paranoia. Figures shift in the dark, a breath tickles the nape of your neck. You may see familiar faces, hear familiar voices, beckoning you to stray further from your path towards uncertain doom: a crooked nail sticking out of the floorboards, a hurried shove off the top of the stairs, a door that opens over the edge of a rocky cliff.

As determined as you may be, the only way out of this dream is through.

ii.
revel:
Trials of Merciful Holly

(cw:potential for dubcon/noncon, mood-altering.)

As the midwinter evening persists, a visitor long awaited comes knocking at the Great Hall's doors. A tall man emerges with a body molded out of braided wood, bearing thorn-tarnished armor and a tattered crimson cloak. With every step forward, thorned vines that stitch across the walls and floors, blooming with plum purple leaves and small budding flowers.

"The Briar Lord," one exile gasps. "Gregor's returned," another praises tearfully. With a bow, he treats the celebrants of the Lonely Fortress with the innocence of a festive game.

"O' eaters of sin, indulge me in this friendly Midwinter game. Ye have survived a harrowing and for that ye shall be rewarded for purging of thy wickedness. I ask thee this final offering to purge this winter and beget a new spring. Give me thy blood and affection with honor and I shall see this cold vanquished. What I am given, I will return what was given me. Then, in trust and friendship, we shall part."

Bats and Lashes

The Lord's game is a simple marital task held out in the frost covered garden: a duel of branches. Each competitor will be given handful of briar as their weapon. The aim of the game is to whip each other until the thorns of the briar's branches draw blood. The first to draw blood from the opponent is the victor and the blood price paid.

Yet, not all these branches are created equal. A fortunate competitor may be given a Bewitching Branch. Those whipped by this branch will become utterly obsessed and infatuated to whom they've been struck by for a short period of time after, beholden to their branch master until the sting of thorns wane.

Tithe of the Mistle

If you choose not to partake in the Lord's game, the Lord warns that his winter's briar will collect a tithing of affection. The vines that bloomed with his arrival grow rampant behind seeing eyes. Buds turn into flowers, petals shed as they mature into plump white mistle berries that release the sweetest scent to draw you in.

Either you have accidentally stumbled upon the mistle, or it has decidedly grown itself above you without your noticing, but you become bewitched by its scent. As the tricksy bramble coils around your ankles, giving the gentlest of biting from its thorns, it becomes clear that you will be consumed if you do not pay the mistle its tithing. For some, it only takes a kiss, for others, the mistle will demand more. Give it something meaningful. Give it something real, and you will be released.

iii.
respite:
Midwinter Mourning

All good dreams must come to an end. The following morning paints a different picture of the Lonely Fortress witnessed in the night's collective dreaming. The Crucible sits under a thick blanket of snow, the waters surrounding the keep have frozen solid. None of the warmth of the night remains; it feels as though the world has died. The whole of the Crucible feels cold, quiet, abandoned.

Every hearth has burned out, every brazier snuffed under the snow, every candle smothered. It's quiet, empty, dark. Daylight may have come, but a thick layer of storm clouds casts a foreboding shadow. If the desire remains to leave, it quickly becomes apparent there is nowhere else to go.

Warm Winter's Kiss

With luck, you have woken in a bed under a pile of old furs to keep some semblance of warmth with you. With even better luck, you've woken next to company to keep each other warm throughout a cruel cold morning. Without proper protection, the cold is biting against exposed skin. Joints and limbs become stiff and numb, making it difficult to move around without constant tending if one lacks gloves.

While hearths can be re-lit and heated baths can be drawn, the true comfort from freezing can only be found in the close company of other living creatures. Exiles on this cruel morning keep each other warm through sharing heated breaths and pressing bodies. Expressions of passion and compassion help the warmth to linger just a bit longer for those who cultivate it together, granting brief autonomy of movement before finding another's heat is needed again.

Breakfast is served, but it's nothing remotely glamorous to the feasting offered by the Midwinter dream: simple porridge that leaves a stale taste that coats the tongue, nuts and fruits that are half rancid, boiled wine that's been watered down to detract from how far along it's turned into vinegar. Its only promise is to fill an empty stomach until more food can be found.

Outside, the snow begins to fall again. An omen that this winter is here to stay. Welcome to the real Martyr's Crucible.

Comments

[goeth]

She's dazed once they separate, having given herself over to the feeling of a really good mack session. The dream haze, the way the smoke makes her head feel woolly and soft, the way Will the Pirate kisses like he means it: it's all making her far more pliant and unabashed than she would be otherwise.

And yet a splutter of an embarrassed giggle bubbles out of her, unguarded and youthful, as she takes the state of herself in. She's gotten a compliment, yes! Also wow Bonnie Bennett you are doing it truly so badly.

"Oh my god," she manages. It's all very nineties grunge too, wide legs with a hammer loop. Clothing to move in! Probably a Tommy Hilfiger logo somewhere. Even as she sucks her cheeks in with embarrassment, Bonnie vogues a little and pushes up one shoulder and then the other. Extremely goofy and self-conscious, but if Steve's into that, then maybe it plays as attractive.

[babysitters]

It's very practical. Once she's done seeing the sights in the group sex room she could easily transition to gardening and still have pockets to spare. Steve doesn't mind, though. Look, there was no prerequisite that she had to show up salaciously dressed. He sure didn't, though that has a lot to do with not having any goddamn clothes.

Cute is good. Posing in her patently casual overalls is good too. He leans back on his elbows for a moment, just to enjoy the show. "Very cute," Steve corrects, a tilt of amusement at the corner of his mouth. The flirting and tonsil hockey is not exactly going to fix everything that's wrong with him, but man... it's still pretty nice. The most normal he's felt in a long time. It's crazy how kissing a very hot girl is such a mood booster!

He walks two fingers up a jeaned thigh. "Can I..." He starts the question but lets his fingers do the rest of the talking. Eventually landing on a buckle to tap there. He's just feeling out how committed she is to the straps, okay? Because it'd be way easier to get his greedy little mitts on her skin if they lose at least one. He can already imagine how warm she is under there and it's kinda driving him crazy. He tilts up on an elbow to try and kiss her again, like that is going to make his suggestion especially convincing. He can't quite reach her from his slutty recline, though, so she'll have to have mercy on him and meet him the rest of the way.

[goeth]

For a moment she looks a little shy and overwhelmed, but Bonnie is quick to catch on, and nods. Her eager little whisper of yes please escapes as she does in fact meet him halfway for more kissing. While he gets one strap taken care of, she fumbles at the other and the bib is soon out of the way, leaving her soft lacy top and the thin cami beneath it all he'll have to contend with.

Now more horizontal, with a little more friction where it counts, when she shifts in Steve's lap she lets out a quiet gasp against his mouth before resuming her quest to find his tonsils.

Okay maybe the overalls were actually a really inspired freaky orgy outfit.

[babysitters]

He doesn't know where this is going. It's kinda like driving without a destination in mind. Strangely, that kind of makes it better? They're seeing the sights. Enjoying the ride! There's no rush. Steve is somewhat guilty of being too pedal to the metal when it comes to positive touch on occasion. Blame whatever they're pedaling at the Velvet Room drink cart, or the floatiness of the dream. Because Steve would be content to watch Bonnie bite her lip and exhale agreement to pulling some of her layers off for the rest of eternity if it were an option.

But then she leans down to kiss him again. So his greedy fingers pluck at the buckle until he can shove it off her shoulder and she managed to do the same with the other and he's not sure how. Magic maybe??? It's just hard to focus on anything besides how good she feels, the hitch against his lap getting a rumble from the back of his throat. A wordless oh yeah, that's good against her mouth.

He'd like to look at what the drooping bib of overalls uncovered, but that would require not kissing. And he's just not game for that right now. So instead he takes her in with his fingertips. Stroking at her sides, spreading across her back. Parking in her back pockets to tease her into doing that thing with her hips again.

[goeth]

The magic of lonely horny girl in a hot guy's lap, yep. Even as cross-faded as she is from the many things she has chosen to put into her body (and those she didn't technically decline) it does seem like her body knows what it wants.

He rumbles, she gasps, soft and high and even giggling as his big hands help her with the pressure situation. She almost squeaks— (dear god don't embarrass yourself Bonnie Bennett) as she feels the length of him through both of their pants, and her hips seek more. She has a problem and Dream Boy is particularly positioned to help her with that problem.

Her hands leave his hair, though, as the tension in her gut and the dizziness in her head are building. Is he still wearing a shirt? Why would not have rectified this yet? Warm, deft, her fingers pluck at buttons or hem or whatever stands between her and dream boy chest.

tw: talk of character death, cannibalism kinda ???

[babysitters]

( Steve has fooled around in the Velvet Room before, but it has never been quite like this. call him old fashioned, but the group fuck thing is a bit much for him. he will make out with a stranger for kicks, because why not. he'll close his eyes and pretend it's a party and someone stole a fifth of whiskey from their parent's liquor cabinet and it's harmless to have a little fun. but he's never done much more than that. hasn't particularly wanted to either. because usually he can't quite manage to forget the other bodies, the other people, the other sets of eyes and how goddamn bizarre it is to have an orgy happening a couple feet away from you.

he likes sex and he likes feeling good but it feels less good when that connection isn't there. when it isn't two people wanting to be as close as humanly possible. after getting carried away on theriac and feeling fucking weird about it after, Steve has not particularly wanted to get lost like that again. the group sex room has been shockingly lacking in appeal to the horny teenage boy because, well, it's just sex. and he's had plenty of that before.

all these things are definitely still true. somewhere, deeeep deep deep in his pretty boy brain, Steve is aware this is probably not a great decision. no matter how pretty this girl is and how good she feels. but man, dying really fucking sucks, doesn't it? he wants to feel something that isn't cold. wants something in his head besides the memories of dropping that stupid lantern or the sharp tone in Brienne's voice. commit to it. eyes forward. Cellar collapsing in that cold fucking water after she tried to pull that thing off him. a dozen different mouths tearing the flesh off his body in long, sinewy strips. that hopeless feeling of being alone until he finally had the mercy of not feeling anything anymore. it's not fair to put that on a stranger, to expect a cute girl with a cuter giggle to be enough to wash all that away.

but that voice is far away. easily ignored. especially as her hands drop to touch him more and he sees the dark needy desperate glitter in her eye. it's enough to let him convince himself that she needs this just as bad as he does. and then she rides against his lap in just the right angle to make his breath catch and clang around in his lungs. whatever valiant sensible part of his brain was trying to get through to him dies a quiet death.

her fingers are burning little hints on his skin as she tries to drag his shirt over his head and Steve sits up again so she can actually get it off of him. there's no hint of the fact he was very recently eaten alive, just normal skin. a few moles. he's kinda hairy? hopefully Bonnie is into that! no biting, no biting, no biting, no biting, is the only thought in his head as he follows her escalation, trying to drag both shirts off her at once even as his mouth runs her jaw, behind her ear, the line of her neck. )

[goeth]

( dreamlover come rescue her, oo~ooh baby.

briefly there's a cooling in bonnie's urgency where her hands sweep over him gently, like soothing a skittish horse. like maybe she felt some of his hesitance and it translated as insecurity for just a moment. just the one moment before he's back all in, and she is too. her bottom lip catches between her teeth as she lets the sensation of being wanted roll over her. here in her dreams she can take for herself, and it's the only place where that's true.

she forgets something, though. he peels her shirts up and she wriggles her arms out and then wastes no time yanking her bra off and tossing it (get that thing outta here). then she's bare to him: two perfect scoops of softness waiting for his hands. her chest is an expanse soft skin, unblemished and warm, sporadic sprays of dark freckles flecked across her chest.

but... across her abdomen is a ruin of newly-healed tissue. beneath her breasts, a little off-center, an angry pucker of a badly-healed puncture the size of a half-dollar, dark and red and raised. its sibling, another angry and badly-healed wound. a wide slash, which sits below her right breast, under her ribs. if they were standing, his left palm would fall against it quite naturally.

but she's forgotten about those, lost in her need and in his reciprocation. sat up like this has put some pressure on her pelvis, and she's going all in at this point. she leans back and gasps as she rolls her hips, eyes falling closed. she's heard there's ass guys and boob guys and hopes you can be both; hopes that dream boy will take the invitation. )

[babysitters]

( well that was an unexpected escalation. but based on the widening of already big bambi eyes, it is a welcome one. there are ass guys and boob guys and there are delighted by anything guys. Steve is one of those. big boobs are fun, but he's really into little ones? Nancy had tiny little teacups, and he was obsessed with them. dream girl has more than enough to treasure. the caveman part of Steve likes how small they look in his hands. he likes the easy weight of them and the catch of her breath just under his fingers as he rubs and enjoys and pebbles a nipple under his thumb. not biting is really hard, because Steve is a biter. he likes leaving marks. like how kids have to debase monuments with Timmy wuz here. so keeping his teeth to himself is a continuous exercise of self control, but since the last two times he got in the thick of it with somebody in this shitty castle they bailed in the middle, Steve is not taking ANY CHANCES that might mess up the liquid want and easy return he's getting right now.

he does not take his hand out of her back pocket. in fact, he squeezes the curve of her ass to make the grind hotter and headier and heavier. basically has her riding his thigh and the press of his cock through his jeans. jesus he's going to jizz in his pants if they're not careful, and wouldn't that be embarrassing. he's gotten off not too long ago, especially if his own hand counts. but he definitely has not had sex with a hot girl even remotely recently, and he's got some pride still. not to mention, that sharp drop off, the getting there, is strangely terrifying. because when they're there this will be over and the feeling good will be over, too.

Steve doesn't see so much as feel the scars. the roughness under his fingers makes his heartbeat jangle like a set of keys rattled in an empty room. it doesn't scare him off, exactly, it just sticks out when every other part of her seems so perfect and pretty. what the fuck did that to her? this is definitely not the time to ask. maybe there is no time to ask. what they're doing isn't about what happened to her, what happened to him, it's about being outside of it. the least he can do is follow the script and stick to the point. )

Should we, ( Steve tries, breathless, though the sentence falls off before he can it. separate enough to take the rest of the layers off? switch spots so he can do it for her? he wonders if he could eat her out awhile and his mouth gets wet just thinking about it. Steve is hopeless, probably any escalation would be fine, as long as they keep going. but he tries to catch her eyes in the shadowy, smoky air, like maybe she'll have a better idea of what she wants and then they can just go with that. )

[goeth]

( it's like there's a wire between his hands and her brain that runs down her spine and into the embers in her gut. she was already ready to move it along, already surprised the dream logic hadn't fixed their clothes for them, already eager to get bouncing.

she's busy making soft noises of pleasure when he catches her gaze. anything you want, guy with big beautiful brown doe eyes and the biggest hands ever, is what she somehow doesn't say out loud... )

Yeah.

( hurried and eager and unhelpful. he's plucking that wire from many angles, man, how is she supposed to have thoughts right now? the other problem is that she simply doesn't actually have all that much experience. only a high school sweetheart and romance novels she stole from her grams' bookshelves because they looked way more interesting than the other stuff in languages she couldn't hope to know.

too bad she's not got a bodice for him to rip! )

Uhm, I just need— ( she puffs out a rueful laugh. her legs have turned a bit jelly, given... well, everything. ) Can you give me a hand, here?

[babysitters]

( it's funny to ask for a hand when she has both of them already. really, she's got more of him than that. she's got every part of him at this point. entirely enraptured. and while sometimes it feels like he's lost too many of his pieces and he's turned into some shambling approximation of Steve Harrington (which is apparently close enough, because nobody has ever called him out on it), it doesn't matter anymore — whatever is left of him is hers. whatever part of him she wants.

Steve is not what anyone could call inexperienced. he's been a hit with girls since elementary school, and taken aggressive advantage of the fact too. so the fact that dream girl says I just need and then fails to elaborate or provide any specifics doesn't discourage him in the slightest. he takes it as a compliment, frankly. feeling good enough that it's all a desperate blur.

he does not need to be given direction when it comes to fooling around. so with a lack of concrete recommendations, Steve goes with his first thought. which is that there is still too many layers between them, and somebody has got to do something about that. and since he's greedy, that person can be him. no problem. he keeps an arm locked at dream girl's waist as he rolls them over, kisses her chest and licks at a breast and mouths at her navel and goddamn it is hard not to bite.

but then he forces himself to focus up, dropping to the ground in front of her to help drag off the goddamn overalls, one leg at a time. turns out, overalls are way less cute when you finally get to the part you have to get them off. but it's not an impossible task, and when they're off and abandoned somewhere she's all legs and bare skin and dark desperate eyes and she's so hot he's seriously gonna lose it. his hand is still on the outside of her thigh, which means it is easy to let his mouth lands at the inside of her knee. trace it up her thigh. his eyes shift to hers as he hints closer to the apex between her legs, trying to say without words that he wants to give her head and hoping she'll get the message without him having to take his lips off her. in his experience, mouth and fingers are practically required if he's going to be inside her, and since he really wants to be he better get started. )

[goeth]

( her little yelp is all joy that melts into a giggle and then back to the surprise of a gasp as his hot mouth meets her skin and doesn't let up. her hands, frantic, try to paw at him, at his shoulders and hair before she gives it up. her palms plants into the soft pillows and blankets beneath her so she can bridge her hips up to be at least a little helpful finally.

steve takes the lead well enough that bonnie can follow easily, despite the thrill and anxiety of it all. what a good dream, what a good guy with good hands and a beautiful mouth. her own big wide eyes meet his and he'll see the moment she registers that he's going to put his mouth on her.

which makes sense! it's only something she's experienced an approximation of in her dreams. bonnie absolutely vibrates with the anticipation; she bites her bottom lip into her mouth; her skinny darling chicken legs fall further apart and she blurts out: )

Hi.

( and here comes the giggles again. binbon! it is not time for pleasantries! )

[babysitters]

( Bonnie should give herself more credit. she definitely did help. she is naked now, and that's amazing. it was a two person job, and the team persevered. go team! with the overalls gone and underwear apparently jumping ship along with them, it leaves the other half of the team free to delightedly drink every inch of her in with dark greedy eyes. his hands spread, a pleasant warm weight on her thighs.

he's not expecting the hi. but somehow, it doesn't seem out of place. in fact, Steve finds it cute as shit. it makes him smile. he definitely does note her surprise, but since it's a good surprise, he is not going to let it slow him down. plenty of boys in the 80s were weird about eating girls out, but Steve Harrington is not one of them. being a hit with girls sort of turned into his thing. when you have a thing you sort of have to live up to expectation, or it won't be a thing for long. and while dream girl doesn't know it's his thing, and it's kinda nice that his reputation does not proceed him in this shitty castle, and that present company doesn't look at him and already have some idea of him before they even spoke —

Steve has no problem making her first association with him getting some really good head. )

Hi. ( it would be rude not to say it back. and maybe he's challenging to try and talk more. because he loves it when a girl loses a train of thought because she got too horny to find the end of it. he spreads her legs wider, momentarily marveling at the warm glow off of her skin. just a moment, because then he drops his head down low enough to kiss her. and it's cute, at first, since she's cute. like kissing the back of her hand, like it's some kind of fairytale. and then it's not that, at all, because fairytales usually don't feature a girl getting eaten out, at least as far as he's aware. while Steve takes it easy on her at first, to let her shake off the inherent shyness and nerves that tend to come along with a tongue inside her — he doesn't take it easy on her for long. she tastes better than the party wine and he didn't even bother to try the food, so safe to say he's got plenty of appetite. )

[goeth]

( between the dream vibes and steve's eagerness, her nerves fall away quickly. bonnie is a quiet thing, but her hands busy themselves reaching for steve like she wants to touch him back; threading in his hair and tapping quickly when he hits a stride that makes her toes curl and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

she's got a pretty solid fantasy library in her mind, thanks to the fact that her friends usually grab all the male attention before she gets barely a look (ok look, even when bonnie looks at caroline she blacks out a little and then refuses to investigate that much farther okay it's not wholly unfounded it's just virginia).

this is... much better, astoundingly better, oh my god what has she been missing actually? it isn't long before bonnie gasps, and babbles awkwardly and sort of confusedly that whatever he's doing is good, so good. soft cries high and breathy, she comes with one hand twisting into the blankets beneath them and one twisting into his hair maybe a little painfully but she is not in charge of her body right now! he is. steve can blame himself for his predicament. )

[babysitters]

( that is the one shortcoming in installing himself between a girl's legs. Steve is a golden retriever boyfriend at heart, and that includes getting pet to a nearly excessive degree. he likes to be touched, and there's only so much touching that can go on when he's so far away. at least the fingers tight in his hair and her toes curling against his back really do it for him. makes it worth the lack of the heat of her body against his. which isn't to say he's cold; she is a wildfire under his tongue.

he throws occasional glances upwards. because half the fun in getting someone off is watching them fall apart. but the rest of it, he's mostly focused on following what her body tells him she likes. when to give more, when to slow down, what makes her shiver and her tongue go loose and lazy. blame the dreamstate; it does not feel like there is a rush. so he takes his time, one hand a firm anchor on her waist and the other on the inside of her thigh, just in case she tries to jerk them closed.

it is only after he feels a shiver-shakiness inside her thighs, that he climbs back up to lay against her, pins-and-needles sort of desperate to kiss her and feel her again. ) Hi, ( he says again, through lidded eyes and a lazy kiss. he is hard and there is truly no hiding it, but to be fair there is no attempt to, considering he's winding her closer with the intention of her knowing. )

[goeth]

( once he's in range, her little grabby hands can't seem to decide where to land. her nails aren't as long as usual right now, but they trace lightly up his back until she finds his hair again. but she doesn't stay, exploring his shoulders and back and hips before drawing back up again in a little cycle.

she means to jokingly say hi back yet again but then her mouth is occupied with his so she sort of hums it muffled against his lips on another giggle, loose and a little dizzy still. she stretches with a gasp when she feels him hard against her hip, as if she has any right to be surprised that he a) has a dick and b) it is happy to see her~

bonnie's body responds for her, arching up against steve at the same time she tries to stupidly take him in hand. there's no room for hands, here! so instead she winds her legs up around his hips and gives good wiggle as if all her problems will be immediately solved. when they don't magically fit together (this dream is great but she will have notes later thank you) she whines, petulant and impatient. )

Wanna feel you...

( clearly she's being cockblocked. obviously. it's so plain to anyone watching! )