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applesaucemod) wrote in
applesaucedream2015-01-25 03:45 pm
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Entry tags:
- character: daine sarrasri,
- character: eliot waugh,
- character: gabriel,
- character: greta baker,
- character: iman asadi,
- character: johnny truant,
- character: lucifer,
- character: rashad durant,
- character: spike,
- character: sunshine,
- character: the balladeer,
- dropped: andrew noble,
- dropped: calliope,
- dropped: castor nubari,
- dropped: dana cardinal,
- dropped: daniel jackson,
- dropped: ianto jones,
- dropped: illyria,
- dropped: jay merrick,
- dropped: jay zimin,
- dropped: nicholas rush,
- dropped: seth,
- dropped: the doctor (12),
- dropped: the tardis,
- dropped: tim wright,
- party post,
- retired: aziraphale,
- retired: bee,
- retired: crowley,
- retired: melanie,
- retired: peter vincent
Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

Hello, dreamers of Manhattan. The Rift knows that things have been kind of rough, lately. The last dream didn't go as well as it had hoped. Consider this an apology of sorts, and a hearkening back to the good times you've shared.
It's a grand old (and potentially familiar) cabin house that the dreamers will find themselves wandering. The furniture is plentiful and comfortable, the floors are strewn with cushions and blankets, and there are cheerful fires burning in the grates. It seems a little odd that the house still manages to be on the chilly side despite looking so warm, yet it is.
Oh, well. You'll just have to find another dreamer or two and
[OOC: Standard dream party rules apply. Characters will be affected by the dream-whammy to whatever degree makes the most sense for them, and will remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. Backtag into infinity.]
no subject
"Well look who it is," she says. She's really happy to see this one again, in a much preferable setting to the last. Spooky dark forest is no place to get someone up against a wall, so to speak, and as chill and relaxed as this place is she really wouldn't mind rolling a bit of fun into the mix. Vince, that was his name, with the matching adorable hummingbird - perfect.
She crosses her legs a bit primly - she's wearing one of her more casual skirts, nice and billowy and deep green to match her hijab - and leather boots beneath that. A lot nicer than her usual fare. Just as well.
"Wanna join me on the couch?" she says. "Or, I don't know. We could go exploring again."
WITH BONUS PICTURES because vince likes pictures
He's a bit more dressed-down today than he was when they met in the woods; hand-painted flares and a sleeveless t-shirt with a skinny, striped scarf, but Vince is always prepared to be looked at. He's a pop star, after all. He is slightly regretting the bare arms, though; it's weirdly nippy in here.
'Already on the couch, ain't I?' he says cheekily, and then makes a liar of himself by getting up again, standing pigeon-toed with one thumb tucked into his belt and giving Iman a faintly provoking look from under his fringe. 'Reckon you'd be up for exploring? You looked about ready to have a little sleepie there, all stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam.'
Maybe it's habit; it doesn't seem like she needs much in the way of provocation, but Vince also reckons she'd be fun after a little poking. The thought gives him a little tingle.
no subject
"Mm," she makes a show of considering it, stretching out one of her legs, also rather catlike. "Yeah, I reckon I would." Her old London accent starts to come out a little bit in the company of his thick Cockney lilt. She slides off the couch, standing short but not too short beside him, and on a whim reaches up to his scarf and wraps it around her hand. She gives it a little tug, very gentle and playful, then turns to lead him into the next room.
"On with you," she says airily.
no subject
He's not expecting the tug on his scarf, and his eyes blink open for an instant (and they're already pretty wide to start with) before he adjusts, and the guileless expression melts into pleased intrigue. Well kinky, nice. Vince gives a sloppy little salute-- 'Right on'-- and follows after with a bit of a sashay.
'What's that I can hear goin' on there?' he asks as they go, giving her a friendly flick to the shoulder. 'You a London girl under all that American?'
((OOC: THERE WAS GOING TO BE AN ADORABLE THING but I couldn't make it fit into this tag. NEXT TAG THERE WILL BE AN ADORABLE THING))
no subject
"I'm from Tehran," she says. "Then London, then New York. My accent moves around with me." She glances back, eyeing him over her shoulder. "And sometimes the old ones can be coaxed out, if the company's right."
The next room is sort of like the last, more sofas, more armchairs, another fireplace (wait, what?) - and some other dreamers. Iman ignores the scattered piles of people, scanning for somewhere more secluded.
"Looks like this one's been pretty well discovered," she says. She nods toward a closed door off to the side, which looks a little more ignorable. "How about that one, then?"
no subject
'It's weird, this place,' he says thoughtfully, looking around the room at the placidly cuddling dreamers. 'S like there was a big old party, yeah, just before we got here, and now everyone's just crashed out.'
It doesn't smell like there's been a party, though; there's no empty bottles or dog-ends or roaches in evidence, and everyone's pretty much dressed. It's just like they all decided together that lying around in puddles and cuddling like baby monkeys was a better option that staying upright.
He lets himself be led through into the next room, which turns out to be... not a bedroom exactly, more in the same theme as the rest of the house, but it does contain a bed, a big round thing all kitted out in fluffy white pillows.
'Aw, genius! Is that what I think it is?'
Iman's hold on his scarf isn't tight enough that Vince can't slip it. So he does, and proceeds to throw himself bodily onto the bed, which, just as he'd thought, sloshes under him, sending him half tumbling back, spine bending and arse in the air and positively cackling.
'You ever shagged on one'a these? I bet it's impossible; I bet it's only, like, rock stars who've got enough rhythm to manage it without gettin' themselves thrown off the bed in the middle of things, endin' up all black and blue and seasick.'
The galloping ripples of the waterbed settle down until Vince is just bobbing in the middle, pink-cheeked and grinning, with only the faintest hint of retrospective embarrassment at his enthusiasm.
no subject
"You look a bit like a rock star," she says, approaching the bed. "And I like a challenge." She tilts her head at him, grinning, twirling his scarf idly.
no subject
He is, though he'd never admit it to anyone, a little surprised that this actually seems to be happening. Not that Vince can't pull basically anyone he likes, but more often than not, they don't actually end up getting round to the sex unless it's a party and he's drunk. This feels a lot more like being pulled. Vince is pretty sure he doesn't mind.
It does mean that he's not entirely sure how he ought to play things off, though. For a moment he ponders just letting his legs fall open and looking inviting, before deciding that that might be a bit too slutty. It's a fine line to walk. Instead, he hoiks himself up to lean over his bent knees and nabs the end of his scarf, giving it a little tug and looking up at Iman, all half-parted lips and tongue toying with the tip of an incisor. He jerks his head at the mattress next to him.
'C'mon, then; climb aboard.'
Cully and Ellis are doing a NSFW thread who the fuck saw this coming
"Mnh," she murmurs, parting just enough to smile down at him. "What shall we do with you?" She reaches up into his hair, sliding her fingers in gently.
SHOCK AND AWE
Oh, and then she's kissing him, and that, that is even nicer. Vince hums into her mouth, lazily slipping his tongue out to stroke along hers. It's slow and warm, a properly nice snog, and he presses up a little into the tickly touch of her hand on his chest, letting his own sneak up to fall into the dip of her back.
Except that then there's a hand in his hair, and it's pure instinctual reaction that has him jerking away, hard enough to send the mattress wobbling, one hand snapping up defensively. 'Oi, don't touch the hair!'
An instant later, he ducks his head in some embarrassment. 'Sorry, habit.' The amount of time he spends on his hair, he'll fucking go off if someone tries to mess with it when he's not given them permission. He's very aware of these things. But when it comes down to it... He looks back up at Iman, and returns his hand to where it was, fingers rubbing a little along the bumps of her spine he can feel beneath her shirt.
'You can, if you like. I, uh, I quite like it, actually. When I'm expecting it.'
no subject
She can't wait to mess it up.
"It is practically begging to be fucked with," she says, and pulls her hand into a fist, not tugging, but holding him pretty tightly. "Which is pretty appropriate."
Then she tugs, coaxing his chin up, leaning down to kiss him again with her other hand settled gently at the base of his throat. This is all very fucking hot, except for the part where the mattress is so unstable that she ends up losing her balance and tipping forward, knocking them both over onto Vince's back. She buries her face against his neck and laughs uproariously.
"This is," she says between snorts, "the worst surface I will ever have had sex on. And I've - I've had sex in a desert." What a weird fucking time that was.
no subject
He feels it's important to get this across, even if he is giving her the go-ahead. This is privilege, lady. Srsly. The message, which starts out in a properly cautionary tone, is perhaps slightly undermined by the way his voice cracks a little when she pulls her hand into a fist. And he knows that the hairs are probably getting horribly crumpled between her fingers, but the pull on his follicles radiates out like a happy, fuzzy little wave, tingling right down his neck and up his ears, and he rolls his hips up into her.
This time, his response to the kiss is considerably less lazy, and a petulant little whimper escapes involuntarily when Iman's mouth is suddenly no longer on his. More cackling shortly takes over as they pitch unsteadily on the mattress, Vince clutching at Iman to try and steady her. They end up sprawled out together with Iman rolled into his side, laughing stupidly right in his ear. Her breath puffs warmly against his neck.
He's pulled up short in the middle of a giggle when she speaks, choking and half-swallowing his own laughter. 'You what?'
That sounds like a recipe for all sorts of sand in places no-one needs sand. Still, intriguing. Carefully as he can, Vince rolls himself over so he can throw a leg over Iman's; not straddling her, but stretched out next to her with his hips all snugged up against her side, propping himself up on an elbow so he can look down at her. She's gone all pink-cheeked and glittery-eyed, her headscarf all askew and thick dark hair peeking from under it; she's pretty much gorgeous.
'That sounds mental,' Vince offers in appreciative assessment, dancing a few fingertips up her side under the spread wings of her blazer. When he gets to her sternum, he circles 'round to brush over the swell of her breast, and has to stop himself from just jumping in there with a proper grope. Not quite cool, this early on in proceedings, he feels. He catches his lower lip in his teeth, enjoying the elastic almost-pain of letting it go again. 'Tell me about it?'
It's half for the sake of a bit of sexy talk, and half because he's sure there's gotta be a good story behind that.
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"It's not a great story," she says. "I was going to this remote desert town for a thing. Science thing." She waves a hand. In bed with someone is about the only place where she doesn't like to talk about her work. "Two days walk from the drop site. My guide was this beautiful Bedouin astronomer, we set up camp and, you know. Not much else to do in a desert. She told me some about the stars and it was all very romantic. We kept most of our clothes on, for obvious reasons. Sand is awfully hard on the back, though."
She sits up halfway and slips her blazer off, revealing pale shoulders in a thin t-shirt. "That's enough storytime," she says, running her fingers gently under his chin. "So, Vince. What do you like?"
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He doesn't usually go for smart girls; not that there's anything wrong with intelligence, he just likes people who are more on his level. But Iman clearly has hit a balance of smart and fun, so that's all right.
'And a proper Casanova as well, nice.' Vince has had loads of improbable adventures, but basically none of them involve sex. If fucking a beautiful lady astronomer in a desert under the stars is Iman's idea of not a great story, her actually great stories must be wicked.
He shifts up a bit to let her shuck her blazer, appreciatively eyeing the shape of her under her t-shirt, and lets one of his hands skim up under the hem of it, resting against soft warm stomach and stroking over the convexity of her ribcage.
The fingers under his chin send another frisson of pleasure down his spine, and impulsively, he ducks his head to catch the tips of her index and middle fingers between his teeth, drawing them into his mouth to lave softly with his tongue.
'I don't have a list,' he laughs when he lets them go, butting his cheek up against her now slightly spitty hand like an invitation to get back involved with the hair. Howard probably has, Vince thinks. He's pretty sure Howard hasn't ever had sex, but he just reckons he's got a checklist of how he wants it to go the first time he does. Vince prefers to wing things.
'Dunno, I'm up for whatever, pretty much. It's all a bit of a laugh, innit? Unless you're into something seriously weird. What d'you like?'
no subject
"Ooh, hang on, I gotta see if I can find some jumper cables." She makes a move as if to roll off the bed for the quest, and instead catches him around the waist, her other hand tangling back into his hair.
"Seriously weird, no," she says lightly, hovering close to his lips. "I like improvising." She gives him a good tug, pulling his chin up, and dips her head to mouth along his neck. He's got a spectacular neck, that needs plenty of attention. She draws her tongue up to the corner of his jaw before biting gently and sucking, less gently. She wants to hear him make noise.