【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
Due to a high volume of check-ins, temporary accommodations have been made in our parking garage for all new arrivals. We aim to have all guests moved into their reserved rooms as soon as possible. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience!
All are invited to There Is No Tomorrow, a Phoenix Casino soiree to celebrate our beloved guests. The festivities will begin at 1800 hours on January 20th and end at 1800 hours on January 27th. Please look forward to 168 hours of delight.
In an effort to raise happiness and encourage better guest relationships, attendance is required. The house will assist guests that are too shy to appear of their own accord. Please note that black tie attire is mandatory. As always, we hope you enjoy your stay! 】
PARKING GARAGE
ANY CAR IN A STORM
PHOENIX CASINO HALL
WELCOME TO THE NEXT 168 HOURS
Phoenix Casino is a-flutter with activity and packed to the beak with guests. As a famously ever-changing space, the staff would be remiss if they didn't deck the crown jewel of the Golden Peacock out. The casino glitters from top to bottom, shining brighter than diamonds, rubies, sapphires, opals! Party-goers are shiny and glamorous with picture perfect makeup, fluttering gowns, and sharp suits. Card tables are packed and the slot machines are a-ringing as guests play, play, play! Prizes, luxury, booze, attractive people, it's the place that everyone wants to be at.
Those people being dragged inside by some invisible force...? Silly, they were so excited to come that their bodies moved before they realized what was happening. Those are struggles of joy and definitely not the casino's infamous ghost hands dragging unwilling guests to the party at the behest of the house. Look, they're literally hurling their bodies at the card tables with unrestrained glee!
All clocks indicating day hours and night hours have been removed from the casino. Once a guest has entered, their Watch will jam, making it impossible to keep track of the time. You don't need to worry about that tonight.
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's January event.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. 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 prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header. This month we also have an ongoing ATP / EMP where players can connect. Please feel free to utilize this for all of your peafowl needs!
▶ If you aren't satisfied with these prompts, 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 regardless!
▶ 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.
[ a strangeness there makes his smile fall, expression carefully blank as he takes in Genya's. worried? he hadn't thought he'd left enough of an impression on anyone to warrant something like that, let alone this guy. from just a little teasing, it makes it so easy to smell the ripe, pulsing blood beneath, a heart barely concealed beneath the sternum; he may as well be watching it throb against the flesh, eager to be torn open and swallowed. he licks his lips. it isn't salacious so much as it is unconscious, a wetting of a dry seam, but his pupils dilate and darken his eyes to an earthy warmth. ]
[ he's always been the provider, the umbrella in the rain, the blanket pulled over. it's odd for someone to do it to him without request, unusual to feel someone else's rough and broad calluses, for warmth to cradle over him and offer it. newness is a plangent hum in his chest, and somehow — regret follows its echo. ]
[ Genya is soft and tender beneath that wall of muscle. he really shouldn't have teased him too hard. ]
You could've found me, if you wanted to. [ it's not an accusation — just a way of explaining where he'd been without having to say it. don't make him say it. hard truth to hide naked as they are together now, a patch of flesh on his muscled forearm receded to reveal marble. a beat more, and the frenetic energy of a drunk gone pacified dissipates as he lays his cheek down on Genya's chest. the strong, steady drum of one against another, beat of pulse against inner ear. his eyes slip lower. ] If I'm sick, will you take care of me? Shinazugawa-kun.
( this definitely feels like one of those things that explicit permission is hardly necessary; or that permission is so much needed at all, if it's given so obviously with the spread of aventurine's legs as he straddles rufus, and the game he so willingly plays. yet he, too, knows what permission does, the weight behind it. less so is the consent requested, but the power dynamic included in wearing a collar and holding the leash.
what rufus is asking is simply for aventurine to connect his collar with the leash on his hand; the one that with the press of a button steals a quiet gasp from aventurine, unexpected as the feeling had been. yet his smile only grows wider, as he's slowly becoming more familiar with the tactics in their game. )
I'm already on your lap, aren't I?
( pointed, and perhaps an excuse, as he shifts on rufus, trying both to find a more comfortable position to account for how hard he's slowly getting in his pants, and to shamefully chase after more of the pleasure he could have from the plug or, if nothing else, from rufus himself, too.
far from aventurine to be picky, after all. )
Is the leash you want to put on me just for show, or are you scared I will run?
[That's his cue, when Aventurine starts to shift in his lap, to snake an arm around his hips and pull him flush against his own body — like it's an offer of friction, or maybe just a temptation to chase it, should Aventurine find himself willing to risk stealing a little bit of surreptitious grinding without anyone around catching on.
It's easier for Rufus to keep his own movements concealed, with the benefit of the couch blocking him and the fact that he's the one underneath rather than on top; it's subtle yet sinuous, the way he rolls his hips shallowly into Aventurine's in smooth, slow movements, as if to encourage that interest in the other man's slacks to continue growing.]
I'm not scared you'll run. You've got plenty of reasons to stay.
[Or one big reason, at least, though he's not quite so crass as to frame it like that.]
No, running isn't the sort of "getting off" I have in mind for you at all.
[curses? could be. a blight upon the face of all worlds, spawning hatred and fear in everyone who looked at them. he's heard oaths and foul words spat at them, disdainful looks levied over shining spear heads, pleading rage in tearful faces thrown behind running shoulders. each one of those wretched emotions siphoned off into his unversed and growing their strength. a tragic hilarious irony so few of his victims ever understood. good question on gojou's part. he creates them. he puppeteers them when necessary. he orders them to serve his every word. when he isn't flippant enough to give a command and let them follow it however they please. they are what he feels, hordes of fledgling emotions under his control. running rampant with destruction, darkness, and negativity. the best part of all, whenever they're slaughtered by those do-gooder types, their power, experience, pain, feelings, all of it flows right back into him, increasing his own strength as he loads them into his proverbial gun once more.
yet unlike so many others he's faced, this bastard here refuses to give into despair and anguish. frustration and panic left void, or at least well-covered by his confidence and determination. his unversed aren't able to draw much power from gojou. good thing such a source of terror saturates the rest of the room. a few fighters pop up here and there, surprising, but he can handle them once he rips out this idiot's heart. doesn't matter if gojou realizes the truth. one man can't face down an infinite army growing stronger with each death. he'll crush him beneath sheer numbers if that's what it takes! a fitting end. consider it paybacks for trying to pulverize him in a black hole.]
Lucky you. [behind his mask, he narrows his eyes, paying close attention to slivers of space around gojou's form. splintered table matter, green felt, dust and debris, none of it actually touches him. as he thought. a field of some kind. until he finds a way through it, he won't be able to make physical contact with him. irritating. no way to drive his keyblade through his chest or fire a lock into his heart to shut off his power. gonna be a battle of attrition.
amid cacophonies of battle, he lowers his arm and swings his keyblade from his shoulder. a flock of chrono twisters beat their little wings, flip their hourglass bodies, and churn the sands within as time-based magic builds up inside. maybe he can't touch gojou, but he should still be affected by the space around him. red light blooms from the man's hand straight towards him, a ball of crimson light. even from this far away, he feels its power pulsating in the air. muscles tense, his body shifts to a defensive position and he instantly drags one of his unversed between himself and that ball. an orb of molasses slow force bursts from its body, time slogging to a crawl in its small space-- and gets plowed right through!] What the-?!
[unaffected? no, it simply pushed past the energy like oil and water! pain rips into his left side, caught halfway from his own attempted dodge. snarling in rage, he slams his keyblade's butt into crimson force, unable to pry himself free of its speed. clawing at his suit, ripping into his muscles and sinew, saturated with gojou's irritation (ah, he finally shows some), his body's dragged along for the ride. stone and wood slam into his back, shatter over his bones, debris clatters on his helmet and arms with every layer he's driven through. a shower of glittering coins burst from the slot machine exploding along his spine, painting a lurid gilded shower as his entire figure crushes into the wall. cracks radiate from his outline, head arms legs torso, something wet spits into the surface of his helmet's interior. can't tell if it's blood, bile, or saliva. probably all three. something's busted inside. ribs snapped. skin feels fried down his left half... well that fucking hurt.
and look who it is. blinking into existence before him once again. this dumbass can teleport too. he doesn't even have to lift his head: the crater of plaster and concrete entombing his masked skull's already seen to that. smoke rises from his left side, his suit melted onto his own flesh and muscle, what of it hasn't been ripped and peeled off his bone. damn, not a lot of people can hit him that hard. this guy's strong. and the stronger he is...]
Hn HAHA Ha ha!! [hurts to laugh, hurts to breath, hurts all over, and it's amazing. feeling this agony again. like that damn old man all over again. chest heaving with his laughter, gravel crumbles about his head, dropping grit onto his collar and lower. not gonna come closer, huh? understandable.] You're still holding back. Afraid of committing?
[ignoring those unversed was a bad idea. pages rustle, a murmured chant, darkness and magic flow as the mimic master flings its arms upward amid an ascending column of light. its heavy-bound book spews reams of pages in spiraling bands, surrounding its body in a fluttering shield. and either side of gojou's body is made privy to two of those hovering pages, now bearing his own likeness, suddenly shrinking into cocoons of light and birthing copies of himself. same eyes, same face, same smile. same blue glow and red light on their hands as both of them abruptly fire gojou's own technique at him from close range. admittedly these "fakes" are fragile, running on little hp when attacked, but the unversed's copies are just as powerful as the original. and with gojou showing his techniques already, it's well versed in using them. to say nothing of everyone else remaining in the room who now have to contend with two gojou's with zero qualms about firing their power into the crowds, heedless of innocents they hit while attacking the original.]
Never was good with grace. [rip! chunks of wall tear as he hauls one arm from its imprint. what more fitting battle than to sic this smug self-righteous superior somebody with his own power. fighting style, thought process, arrogance, all mirrored the mimic master hides within its shield of pages. fully able and ready to create another pair of fakes.] Flaunt yourself more. It'll only make them stronger. [rip! another arm as he begins breaking out of his outline. and straightens up as he leers at the other man caught in a battle with his own ego made manifest. the irony's hilarious with this stupid hero.] Go kill yourself.
[metal gleams as he lifts his keyblade in his good arm.] Curaga. [green light, a whirl of leaves and drooping flowers, and burnt skin fleshes out again as his bones seal and his torn muscles knit. healing himself good as new once more. ever the pragmatist, he was never gonna give gojou a fair fight.]
( so he does, doesn't he? above the entertainment coming from the game they play, the pull closer is a siren song of temptation, that even he, in his professionalism and experience, can surrender to desire like anyone else. it's what makes the challenge fun - measuring the control he has on temptation, not wanting to let rufus see how easily an influence he has on him, though it would be foolish to assume the both of them aren't on the same page already.
fine, then, he thinks. if rufus wants him closer, then aventurine will scoot closer, grind himself on his lap to truly cut their distance short, so the both of them can feel the other better. a game has more than one player, after all. )
How honored I am that you have me in mind at all. ( said almost insincerely, though it's more meant to be a tease than otherwise.
not so much of a surprise, when aventurine presents himself the way he does; a hand sprawling over the back of rufus' neck, if only to keep his head steady, and he doesn't look away from the pretty little prize he has on his lap. )
I do have to wonder how often it is that you're interested in anyone. Am I that special, or just another pretty face you've found in here?
[It's good, the way each subsequent exchange of their game has brought Aventurine a little closer, a little more securely into Rufus's hold; it's where he wants him, focused in on their banter and the meet of their eyes and the steady, lulling rhythm of their cocks grinding together through fabric. The press of that hand at the back of his neck makes him smile, just faintly; it's meant to convey that he's been caught, he knows, as little by little they tangle themselves up in each other.
But that's just what he's wanted, because this is a game — and Aventurine seems the adaptable type, more prone to react to sudden changes than stimulation he can adapt to over time. There's some old adage about a frog in a boiling pot, and what it takes to get them to jump free; there's another about a spider and a web and a fly, and somehow he'd wager that both are applicable to this situation.
Case in point: Rufus lowers his voice, adding one more layer of temptation for Aventurine to place himself close where he's perched atop him — and like a sleight of hand magician, with the thumb that no one's watching, shoves the vibrator's slider gauge to maximum before holding down the burst for good measure.]
Do you feel special?
[His arm tightens like a trap, firm so Aventurine has nowhere to squirm but forward, which will only add even more stimulation if he tries — pressed flush as they are by their previous adjustments.]
Go on, Aventurine. All eyes are on you. How does power feel now?
[He says, though he doesn't really expect the other man to be coherent at all, sudden as the attempt at overwhelming him comes.]
[Aak's pleasant, somewhat probing stare is finally blocked by the blindfold. There's a certain atmosphere of performance that starts to relax. The younger Feline always considered himself honest in his actions and reactions but with one sense gone he might as well focus on the ones that remained. His smile isn't to tease or intimidate. It's simply because he's in a good mood.]
Not everyone into this stuff's into getting roughed up, I guess. [and even as someone who's gotten a rush from inflicting pain, he wouldn't want to do it through shitty restraints. The intention was every bit as important as the act.]
You wanted to go a while anyways so good for you! [his voice moves around the room as he shifts off the bed and assures the location of his toys. There was an entire canvas of eager person for him to work with. There's the faint sound of somethings being tossed onto the free spaces of the bed, no sound distinct enough to pin down their identity. When the weight of Aak makes the mattress dip it's on his left-hand side, with no immediate conversation to give away what's running through his head.]
[There is the briefest press of room temperature plastic against a nipple before,]
And here. [The vibrating toy starts to buzz against the skin. In Aak's eyes, going for the erection was too obvious. He wanted to see things build before he went for anything major.]
( indeed he is, the adaptable type. it's his strength, a calm and rational mind that lays out plans and schemes regardless of the situation. he's aventurine of stratagems, after all, and yet it stands true, that the element of sudden surprise is what counters his quick mind for a least a while.
he had considered the overwhelming, mind-blowing sudden pleasure that would come from the game they play, yet it did not prepare him for how it would actually feel. a gasp that threatens leave his mouth, before he bites down on his lips and finds refuge at the crook of rufus' neck so he may hide his face and muffle his mouth both.
it hits all the right spots, too much so aventurine can't help but squirm, grind on rufus' lap both to chase after more of that feeling and renounce it at the same time. for all of his experience, aventurine is still human like anyone else, still falls victim to pleasure and stimulation, finding that too much of this would easily bring him to climax.
he opens his mouth to answer, or makes an attempt at it, but a moan escapes his mouth this time, and he bites it shut again. with the way his fingers cling onto the fabric of rufus' clothes, desperate and firm as though that's the only support he has, maybe that could be an answer itself. )
[There's something enticing about the way Aventurine curls against him, writhing in the trap of his arms like a prized pet. The vibrator has plenty of battery life to spare, but the element of surprise comes only once; if he turns it off and on again, the second pulse won't carry nearly the emphasis of the first, so he's got to make the most of this one while he's got it.
He's certainly not immune to the secondhand sensation, either — not when Aventurine's squirming is more erratic than controlled, not when the pressure and drag of the fabric over his own clothed cock is equal parts perfect yet not nearly enough. He cocks his head a little, almost obliging, to make more room for Aventurine to press against his neck. It's not an invitation to bite, but it's certainly an opportunity.]
Come like this for me. Just like this.
[It's soft enough to be encouragement, but imperative enough to be unmistakable for the command that it is.]
( maybe it's his poor attempt at a joke. the furthest from charming. no dignity to be had, either, in implying she'd call out someone else's name in bed. in the short period of time that she's learning what makes aki aki, these fundamental truths are what she has to go by.
she knows all of that, right down to the pitter-patter of his current feelings, and it still doesn't really prepare her at all. robin blinks big and owlishly at the suggestion and doesn't catch on for a delayed beat. it takes a moment for the sheer idea of it to register, and then another two for her to react to it. )
...no, I don't think I'll do that, Mr. Hayakawa. ( so she says, shocked back into a hostess's polite mannerisms in the lilt of her riposte, a little pink in the face and maybe slightly defensive because what else is she to say about that...? and while she'd already been halfway to perching between his legs, no less?
but she's learning. there's no graceful way to initiate a one-night stand — is that really what this is? — or to figure out the laces of her corset now that it's as form-fitting as latex on her body, or to kick off her heels so that they don't drop onto the carpet with a mood-ruining clunk of noise as the mattress dips and squeaks under the weight of her stocking-clad knee. all of these distractions, and aki still looks at her with a strange patience. a kind sort of focus. and she already knows that none of this comes very naturally to him either.
to be honest, he does remind her of someone — but that's where the similarities must end. where aki had looked at her and saw a devil, robin had felt his odd warmth and had seen an — )
I'm not so much an angel, either, that I would want you to think of someone else right now, if I can help it...
( she offers honestly, and maybe it comes off soft and unsure even in the note of her own quiet assurance, because her gloved hands are still trailing aimlessly over the plane of aki's stomach until she's palming the edge of his waistband, fingers hooked there at his slacks again as she considers her next step.
wonders, idly, if he'd fall back onto the mattress the rest of the way if she pushed on his shoulder, even as she's already doing it. )
... I could... use it over your clothes, if you'd prefer.
That's true. I don't mind roughness, as I've said, but I prefer it to be intentional.
[ That is, if Aak is going to bite or scratch or hurt him in other ways Keita would rather it be Aak to do it, instead of leaving welts on his wrists just from thrashing around in the restraints. And, indeed, given their intention to test Keita's stamina tonight, he thinks the comfort of the cuffs will be very much appreciated.
Breathing softly and very aware of each sound he hears, Keita tries to track Aak's movement around the room. A shift of fabric here, a footfall there—Keita can't determine exactly what he's doing, but the longer his vision is blocked, the more easily Keita seems able to use his hearing to at least understand Aak's general location. And when the mattress dips as Aak sits, Keita gives himself a mental check mark for having guessed correctly.
There's a press of something cool and hard against his skin, and then moments later, Keita jumps as a motor buzzes to life within the casing of the little toy. ]
Oh, [ he half-gasps, a shudder of sensation running through him. Keita's chest is sensitive—not as sensitive as some other places on his body, but certainly sensitive enough that such direct, sustained stimulation is enough to make him shift a little, his breath hitching and his cock twitching slightly against his lower belly. He arches his back on instinct, as if trying to press into the sensation. ] Oh, that's very... mm...
[ it's not the bullseyed response to his teasing that gets a snort of amusement out of him, but the performative appreciation that follows it. Nanami Kento — stickler for the rules sensitive to the faux pas of their community-minded society. if he endeavors to teach Gojou his P's and Q's to make a better impression on others, he can pivot to try and impart the exact opposite advice to Nanami without feeling anything at all like a hypocrite. there's a middle ground there: something he thinks maybe Haibara has affected, for all that Ieiri is disaffected. ]
[ there's one touch of humanism on him and, like a brilliant beacon, Getou floats to it as a moth to flame. sloppy and graceless with liquor in his youthful system, not as practiced at it as he would have been the last time Nanami laid eyes on him in their world; his fingers wrap around the cheetah-print tie hanging about his neck and give it a hearty tug down. ]
Oh, I love this. [ rosy-cheeked sincerity, ]. I always did think you had one of the better senses of fashion between all of us.
[it's deliberate (he says in his mind), trading his hand from aki's dick to his thigh. no more column of pulsing flesh beating between his curled fingers, feeling each treacherous beat of pleasure through his member as he tried getting his mind around reality. instead he's slathering evidence of aki's interest all over his own skin, fingertips widening in a splay across long bunched cords of muscle, thumb gripping meat hard enough to dent into his complexion. it feels good, every little piece of evidence aki's enjoying this despite being at war with whatever inhibitions struggle their hold in lines across his mind. the man's got his hand on the end of a dildo shoved up another guy's ass and he's the one with a fucking hard-on because of it. glass beads of precum welling on the tip of his interested cock now free to drool down its length towards his balls barely brushing the blonde's thigh aki's so willingly mounted. some part of him wondered if the hunter would finally break, pull back, give up with a "i'm done" snap and grunt before he had to admit he actually likes this. instead, he pushes the toy in further and fuck is it tempting to kick his stupid face in reaction!
his abs tighten without his permission, crunching inward as his skin sinks across and between each individual cut groove. breath sucked in, hips twitching upward more on one side thanks to a damn brute saddling his thigh on the other. a thigh he continues incessantly pushing up and nuzzling against aki's balls whenever his flushing brain can remember to send a signal to it. head turned slightly, teeth snagging pillow case material, a line of drool starting to soak into fabric, and his sharp red eyes still lock onto a bare flicker of curve on aki's face. a smile, sincere and aroused, amused and interested. bastard. now he's trying to clam back up and all he can do is writhe on the bed each time a pink perverted wand wiggles around inside his ass. pushing it in further, sending a freezing stab of pain and strangeness shooting up his body so hard his eyes widen and his mouth falls open with a sharp yelp of surprise. what the hell just stretched open in there?! or was that all because of those two dumb pairs of plastic "ears" nuzzling into his own sac, vibrating right up the cords into his groin until he's torn between cumming and pissing. fucked-up shitty toy pushing too many buttons at the same damn time!]
Sh-shut up! Guh-! ha-ahh... ngh- ni... can handle this! [cracking and panting like he fucking can't. pressure against his thigh, he instinctively drops his knee and stretches his leg further to spare aki's orbs. until the man's repositioned enough to grip at knee and push his legs apart, spreading open on either side to flank the hunter's body between his thighs. toes curl on the left, dragging at the sheets and alternating with his heel grinding to the bed. ankle pops on the right as his leg's abandoned hovering in the air just above aki's ass as he slots himself down comfortable in his personal space. he snares one knee with his fingers, squeezing in a death grip as moving his legs sends lightning snapping through his spine. muscles harden, the cords of his neck stand out with one grunt and choked-back yelp after another until aki's finally done moving them both. with his legs now thrown over top the hunter's thighs in an arched drape, knees brushing at his obliques and the tendons beneath them cradling his pelvic curves. right before a hand catches his hips and pins him to the bed, earning a visible spurt of crystal-clear precum lancing from his dick to slap into the mess all over his glistening stomach.]
Mo... move like that... again... and I'll fucking kill you- [fire, ice, lighting, pain, stretch, jolt, burn, freeze, spark, felt like everything in the world was exploding in his body through the entire torturous heavenly process. how the hell do some people get manhandled while they're getting fucked?! aki barely shuffled his legs around and he was gonna blow his load, scream, or pass out all in one eternal second!! whap! flushed face, panting breath, saliva on his lips, sex-blown eyes, hooded lids, sweating face, all that's ignored in favor of reaching between his own v-straddled thighs and slapping his hand onto aki's chest. doesn't have direct "threat" to his balls anymore, but he's dropping his hand, dragging wet lines down his diaphragm as sweat smears beneath his palm's heel and knuckles. over the hills of his stomach, until the underside of his forearm's nuzzled wet against his own throbbing erection, and he's once more able to wrap his hand around aki's dick. slushing precum and perspiration together into a soaking coating. can't jerk him off from this position, but he can manhandle him a bit instead.] When then hell... did I.. tell you to stop?
[A gold star for Keita's mental map of the room and Aak's position!]
[There are plenty of places for Aak's eyes to wander. He may miss the visibility of his subject's eyes but he can still clean a lot from the curve of the lips, when they part in pleasure, and any flush of blood in the skin. Looking too long at the face, though, then he misses out on the eager erection. At least a long night promises plenty of time for both.]
Mmhm? [Aak tilts his head, another small shift as he moves his weight. There's a brush of short fur against the far side of Keita's body and the weight of a hand pressing down on the bed. The toy continues to be rolled over his nipple, the most distinct feeling compared to the hand on the other side or the fact he may be leaning over the older man.]
Use your words, huh? While you still can, [he teases.]
[ Being so chided makes Keita laugh quietly, although the sound stutters when the rise and fall of his chest makes the toy shift and sends a fresh jolt of pleasure through his body. ]
I think I told you, [ Keita manages, relatively steady although his voice does waver in places. ] I don't have much experience with... toys.
[ He pauses to draw a breath, then exhales slowly, ending on a low moan as heat flushes through him. If this is how toys feel, well, Keita is beginning to understand why people seem so enthusiastic about them in this place. ]
But it feels good... it feels—warm, a little. And tingling.
[ To say nothing of the little twitches of stronger pleasure that keep running through him, but surely Aak can see those on his own. ]
[Hearing the laugh interrupted sends a little shiver down Aak's spine. It's encouraging. While he would enjoy a person getting angry at him or snapping for doing something to try and get those moans or staccato breaths, there also something soothing about just continuing. He's doing a good job if he causes more sensation and he'll have done a good job if he reduces Keita to incoherence.]
You should try 'em more often! [Aak says with an eager edge to his tone.]
Sure, sometimes a human touch is better, but, [heh,] two good things that go good together, you know?
[That phrase should be a clue that he intends to touch Keita somewhere- a combination of the stimulation of the toy and something he can uniquely bring. Where, exactly, is only uncovered little movement by movement. The mattress shifts, Keita can feel Aak's torso brush against his and then the other nipple is subjected to a wet and rough tongue rolling over it.]
[So, the toy is rolled on one side while Aak laps at the other. The mass of sensation there with little additional details of the Feline's fur, his breath, the small creaks of the bed, all happening at once.]
[ It's not likely that Keita will get angry. Impatient, almost certainly, but one thing he knows by now is that there's pleasure in the delay, in being pushed to his limits and then past them, so while he will almost certainly (eventually) try to urge Aak on, he has no expectation that Aak will listen—and indeed, he'll enjoy it more if Aak doesn't.
For now, what Aak gets is another amused exhale and then a sharper inhale as the vibrator rolls over the stiff peak of his nipple once more. ]
This is doing, mmh, quite a bit to—to convince me I should explore...
[ The thought trails off as Keita's attention is distracted by the shift of movement. In the dark like this he can't see the way Aak moves, but his future-memories provide him with a burst of sensation only instants before it comes, the rough rasp of a feline tongue over his other nipple, equally sensitive if not more so.
It earns another moan, make Keita's legs shift helplessly on the bed. It stings a little, the roughness—and that sting only turns him on more, makes his back arch into the sensation and coaxes him that last little bit to full hardness, his cock lying heavy against his hip. Each breath he draws hitches a little, embarrassingly aroused, and Keita bites down on his lower lip like that might save him from himself. ]
[ Ragna, for better or for worse, never really had a choice in the matter when it came to needing to be bright and alert when waking up. Even here at the Golden Peacock, where no one was after his Azure Grimoire or his bounty, sharp eyes and senses meant that he was just as much of an early riser as he was capable of sleeping in. ...that, and the only thing anyone could be after when it comes to Ragna here was his d- ]
...oi. [ Gently, he tries pulling on the blankets a little harder. No avail. ajklJDFKL But Wagna has a plan. ] Lemme in for a few mins and I'll make breakfast?
[ He's trying. If this doesn't work, he'll just grouchily get out and do it anyway. /whip ]
[ He was in the middle of giving her nipple an experimental suck when Ishmael decides to take matters and Heathcliff's cock into her own hands. He gasps, his lips popping off her nipple, as his tip sinks into hot, silky warmth... Oh Wings, that is so much more than he thought it would be. The way she was squirming and making those soft sounds was already more arousing than he thought he was prepared for. His head drops to her sternum, between her breasts, and he shakes with the effort of not just slamming right in. He's pretty sure he can hear her heartbeat from how close he is. ]
Fuck, holy... Fuck. Ah.
[ He gasps, takes her by the hips, takes another breath where he is, and then she tells him to get it over with it and he makes a high, thin noise he has only made one other time, when he was too huge and too sad and fur and teeth and claws and so much anger that everything hurt.
He licks a line up her chest before he realizes it might be strange, noses at the dip of her collarbones, and rolls his hips forward, only as fast as Ishmael's cunt makes room for him, and fuck fuck fuck he's gone mad, he's lost his damned mind, it's tight and wet and warm and without thinking he slams in again, and again, and his hips stutter as he lets out another gravelly noise where his face stopped at her neck, where she smells a bit like coffee and a bit like toast and very overpoweringly like herself, the scent he's always associated with her but never bothered to identify. ]
Shite, fuck. Wings. Fuck.
[ He comes to rest on his elbows at her shoulders, pushing hair aside to hold her by the jaw with one hand and by the scalp with the other. When he sinks in again, his eyes squeeze shut and his lips clamp to the meat of her neck, sucking hard and groaning as he tries not to thrust so desperately, but it's so difficult when her skin is so soft and she smells so good and her cunt is so hot and wet and she keeps making those damned noises— ]
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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