MASQUERADE PARTY

[masqueradeparty]

[the day of the party has arrived!

right around dinnertime, fairies will try to round up every single character and gesture, lead, or pull them towards the courtyard. there, the miniature castle has finally been completed! there are fairy lights and beautiful singing all around you, and it looks like there's some kind of a party going on in the castle, but...

...but it's still so tiny. how could you possibly get in there? it would be hard just to get your hand through the front door!

but the fairies will persist, and as soon as a character steps into the fairy ring...

they find themselves in the ballroom.

this post has been forward-dated to tonight, of course, so mingle in the comment sections and have a fun time with the different rooms.]

SECTION LINKS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE:
• The Ballroom
• Side Rooms
• The Garden
• The Altar

Comments

[molotov]

Nyet, but don't.

[But she's pulling at his clothes.]

[samson]

Uh-huh.

[She can pull at his clothes all she wants! He's sliding his hands up under her skirt to take her panties off.]

[molotov]

[Here's a hint: she isn't wearing any.]

[samson]

[YIKES, OKAY, THAT'S A PLUS. Brock groans a little when he notices there are no panties to speak of, again biting down on her neck as he slides his hand between her legs to press his fingers against her.]

[molotov]

[She makes a tiny noise as he touches her, biting her lip and digging her hands into his shoulders, but then whispers all the same.]

No marks.

do people even put warnings for sex anymore, anyway here's a warning

[samson]

[Brock pauses to run his tongue along the side of her neck, up the big artery to her jaw, before whispering in return into her ear.]

What are you gonna do about it?

[He punctuates this by brushing his fingertips against her entrance, taking her earlobe gently in his teeth.]

[molotov]

Leave.

[But her voice is breathy and she's pushing her hips against him, so clearly she's a liar.]

[samson]

[Chuckling, he kisses at the hinge of her jaw, gently pressing his tongue to her skin before he pulls away.] I don't believe you, baby.

[Meanwhile he's just going to keep teasing her for a bit, because that's how Brock Samson rolls.]

[molotov]

[Frustrated, she knits her brow and presses against him more insistently.] Stop, don't tease...

[samson]

Are you telling me you don't like it?

[He does as she says, though, sliding his fingers inside of her, swallowing hard when he feels how warm she is. They've done this so much since their wedding that he's lost count, but every time he can't help but be caught off guard by how she feels.]

'cause I'm pretty sure you do.

[molotov]

[Molotov doesn't answer, and just presses her mouth to the crook of his neck instead, to muffle her moan, eye fluttering shut.]

[samson]

[Brock breathes out hard when she reacts that way, moving his fingers slowly inside her as he presses his thumb to her clit. His mask is sort of irritating him, so he pulls it off the rest of the way and just flings it into the pillows.]

[molotov]

[Whimpering softly, Molotov knits her brow and moves her hips against him, like he isn't going fast enough.]

[samson]

[Chuckling, Brock kisses her jaw.] What, you want more than that? Just tell me to fuck you and I will.

[molotov]

[She whines and digs her nails into his shoulders.] Harder...

[samson]

Harder what? [He moves his hand faster anyway, because he's not dumb. He knows what she wants. He just likes to hear her say it, likes to hear her struggle for words.]

[molotov]

[Molotov just groans and bites his neck. She refuses to acquiesce to his stupid power games, and so she pants instead.]

[samson]

[But why! The power games are his favorite part. Breathing in sharply, he closes his eyes when she bites, angling his head a little to give her better access. Maybe Molotov is worried about looking bruised during a party, but Brock really did not give a fuck.

He curves his fingers up behind her pubic bone as he keeps thrusting his hand, muttering vaguely to her about how much he loves her and what else he wants to do with her.]

[molotov]

[Because she doesn't like it, Molotov doesn't like him getting off on her disorientation during sex! Poor little lady.

She writhes and makes noise, her body starting to tense around his fingers and her nails pressing into his skin.]

[samson]

[Nooo, he's getting off on the fact that he is making her disoriented with his penis! Well, right now it's with his fingers, but still! He likes the idea that he is just so ~good~ that she can't even control her speech. Let him have this, lady, you mock him for everything else.

Brock answers her with soft, encouraging sounds, kissing and biting at her neck, moving his fingers quickly inside her.]

[molotov]

[No, he cannot have this! Brock will just have to live with the mockery, because he is not allowed to have this even a little bit.

After another moment or two, Molotov just goes tight and moans into his neck, accidentally scratching him as she pulls his skin a bit.]

[samson]

[That's rude! So rude. Brocks need some good things sometimes, too!

He swears when she scratches him, biting harder at her neck and sucking at the skin. If she could scratch his back, then he could give her hickeys. And she could just deal with it! Meanwhile he keeps his fingers inside her to give her something to squeeze on, rubbing his thumb in quick circles at her clit to carry her through her orgasm.]

[molotov]

[N-O-P-E.

And no, no hickeys! It's not fair, no one will be able to see his scratched back, it doesn't matter! She moves one hand to wrench his head away when he did that, as she started to come down.]

[samson]

[R-U-D-E.

Brock grunts in frustration when she knocks his head away, scraping her skin with his teeth a little. Your fault, lady!

He shifts his weight to one elbow and waits until she comes down enough for him to take his fingers from inside her, watching her face as he licks them clean.]

[molotov]

[Breathing raggedly, Molotov pushes up on her elbows to look at him for a moment, then squirms away, moving to rest on her knees next to the chaise.]