【 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.
If you told me that, I'd say... [ He knows he's caught. He walked right into her hands. ] that I don't argue with a lady.
[ Deflective, but not uncharacteristic of him.
And still, with the scant time spent here, listening to her share things with him that feel like gossamer sunlight cutting through thick grey, he thinks he knows why she hadn't let him answer the first question, instead saddling him with the second and third. Exhaling, he lifts her hand again, this time to press the flats of her knuckles to his lips. ]
I wouldn't regret you.
[ Lighter isn't familiar with the taste of defeat, but like this, he thinks he could get used to it. ]
[ it's the second time he's held her hand so closely, but this time feels completely new, if only for the sensation of his lips pressed against her skin. she can't stop the tremble this time, full-bodied rather than just in her fingers; her cheeks flush with a warmth that rivals his own, but she doesn't pull away.
it's strange—she's barely moved at all in the past few minutes, but her heart is beating so quickly. ]
I hope not. [ she's teasing a little bit; the fondness has yet to leave her expression. ] I wouldn't regret you either. I know I won't.
[ and she'll continue to tell him that, even if she has to do so for the entirety of their stay here. ]
[ Despite himself, he laughs quietly, reveling in the sensation of her skin and how it's so dissimilar from his own. ]
Now I've really gotta put my money where my mouth is. [ A little puncture mark made by well-worn grit, just to let some of the tension he'd felt breathe out. It's easier then, for some of that confidence to well into its place. His mouth follows suit, up to tender knuckles, the back of her hand. All the way to her wrist, the underside of which thrums with her pulse. It's a good feel, he thinks. ] Since you're so kindly accepting my terms.
[ Maybe he's not the best person to draw close to, but the idea of someone else wresting something so important from her for cards or money makes his gut burn.
Even loathe to make a decision, sometimes he does so. And sometimes, it changes his life. ]
[ there's a hitch of breath in her throat as her eyes follow the path of his lips over her hand, fingers twitching gently in his grasp. her skin pebbles with gooseflesh, unused to this kind of attention but welcoming it anyway, if the flutter of her pulse beneath the delicate skin of her wrist is any indication. anticipation makes the flush on her cheeks darken, makes the ache in her chest sharper, and she finds herself thinking if she had spent less time in the cathedral back at the academy, would she have experienced this then? would she still feel like her heart is ready to burst from her chest; craving for more of his attention, even when she's already had it?
she has not known this kind of touch from a man who didn't want something from her—her body, her blood, or both. lighter can't know the significance of it, how freeing it is to be touched as she is herself and nothing more. ]
I think you already have, [ is what she shakily manages, swallowing down a soft sound when his lips inevitably find her pulse. she reaches out with her other hand to gently brush his hair away from his face, fingertips brushing along his jaw. ] But you won't hear any complaints from me if you feel it's not enough.
[ It's easy to feel in his grasp, how sensitive she is. Lighter isn't — he's long been dulled to most finer sensations by scars and violence, by throwing those possibilities away in exchange for strength enough to guide him through hell. But gentleness was nourished by the ashes of what burned after his footsteps, and in its wake his strength is soft and measured. If he's to use it for anything, it's to protect.
Such a faint noise and it's already sticking in his ears and coalescing, the sound of it sweeping his nerves. Her touch along the line of his face has him pulling back to deliver a final kiss to the heel of her palm, leading it along to cup the other side of his jaw. Toughened fingers loosely curled over her hand, he leans his weight into her palms, breath sighing long and slow from the bottom of his chest. His thumb brushes over the back of her hand once, twice, tracing fragile bone as if ensuring the weight of him isn't too heavy for her to bear. No matter how profound it feels. ]
Do you feel like it's not enough? [ An earnest question. He's seeing the signs, but still... Lighter's gaze rises, giving her the benefit of its presence. ] Do you want me to show you?
[ his touch is so gentle despite the scars and roughed fingers; she burns wherever he lingers, warmth suffusing through her skin and settling there, until she can't distinguish her temperature from his own. faerghan winters have always been brutal, the kind of cold that chills you down to the bone, and even down south, the summers are mild and temperate. but he's warmer than anything she's ever felt this close, like cupping sunlight between her palms.
there's a lump in her throat, heart stuttering in her chest. he turns the question on her and her next inhale is tremulous, delicate; is it possible to feel like it's not enough and too much at the same time? suddenly, she's both too aware of their proximity and how much closer they could be. surely, he could hear how her heart is determined to punch its way out of her ribs. ]
... Yes. [ she meets the green gold of his gaze but can't hold it for too long, eyes fluttering shut as she leans in closer to press her forehead against his. she can feel his breath against her cheek, her mouth; unwilling to have him mistake her hesitation for fear, she leans the rest of the way in, her lips brushing gently against his. ] Please.
[ For once, he's not the first to look away, and it fortifies his decision in his heart. Light shapes dance across the backs of his eyelids, like he's looked at something too bright for a little too long. But the quality of light is different than the one he knows, newer and less harsh. He captures her lips in a proper kiss, shallow and easy. If it's now, in this comfortable liminality, he can forget that there are less kind motivations waiting at the door for them — no suit, no rank. Lighter doesn't know everything about the game, but he knows enough. ]
Okay. [ A contented rasp, hot in the hollow of his throat. When he pulls back a little, there's some humor in his gaze, the low pulse of red deeper, more vibrant. ] I may look calm, but the fact that you agreed makes me want to pass out.
[ At least he's being honest. He can feel the thrum of her pulse as it nears the surface of her skin, the way she's become so warm. Not going back on what he'd offered, he shifts beneath the sheets, leaning forward on a broad palm that divots the mattress. ]
We can go slow.
[ A brush of his nose across her cheek, idle presses of his lips here and there. ]
[ she's taken by the easy way he kisses her, the firmer press of his lips against hers; their warmth and texture. something cracks open in her chest, fledging and delicate, emotion surging up to make the lump in her throat worse. she feels tears threaten to well up behind her closed eyes and she takes another shaky, steadying breath, slipping her fingers into his hair just for something to hold on to. just this is already so much—it's silly, how overwhelming it is, but she doesn't want him to stop. ]
It's okay, [ she laughs sheepishly, a little watery. ] I feel like I might, too.
[ does it make it better knowing that he isn't the only one? she doesn't know. but his honesty does provide some comfort, calming the staccato beat of her pulse momentarily before he shifts forward. ]
You don't have to. [ she swallows, melting a little beneath his kisses, tipping her face up to them like a flower to the sun. ] I'll be all right.
[ her head tilts, catching his lips with hers briefly once he gets close enough. ]
[ He wonders, briefly, if she shouldn't trust him, but the upwards turn of her face into the draw of his lip feels so sweet that it silences the thought before it really solidifies. Doubt tends to splinter his thoughts, but faith in him is enough to lessen its influence. He wouldn't be who he is without it: a creature wreathed in flame, a warning, a protector without equal. In her hands and with nowhere else to go, he finds peace enough among all of it for tenderness. ]
You can trust me. [ — is finally what he decides on, quietly sweeping his free hand up to her cheek to steady her trembling. It's a little for himself too. ] Which is exactly why I think we should go slow.
[ His lips meet hers again, once, twice, growing hot and pliant at the seams but not pressing past that boundary just yet. When he pulls away, just scant enough to still feel the buzz of her warmth, nose to nose, he gazes thoughtfully at the pretty downturn of her lashes, the color of his heat on her skin. ]
If I'm getting to be the one to touch you, I want to know the places you like. So you're gonna have to tell me...
[ Tucking pale locks behind her ear, he angles in to offer her parted lips and a faint brush of his tongue in return. ]
[ the flush on her cheeks has spread down her throat by now, pooling in her chest within the confines of her robe. it's strange—she feels almost too warm, but rather than pull away, she only craves more of it: more of his proximity, his heat, his gentle touches. she wonders idly if the desire for it has always been there, gone dormant because of her past or the war, only to be awakened by tenderness.
or maybe it's him and the safety she can feel in the warmth of his hands.
the lump in her throat has faded, now that the newness of it is replaced by the desire to pull him even closer. the kisses settle her, eager to reciprocate despite her inexperience; another sound gets lost between the blur of one kiss to the next, soft and halfway to a moan, as she tries to separate the meaning of his words from the way they feel. ]
... Okay. [ she doesn't know the places she likes—she wouldn't know before this. but she wants to find out, and it's without hesitation that she takes one of his hands, guiding it to the knot where her robe is secured. before she lets go of his hand, she finds his gaze again, the haze clearing from her eyes momentarily. ] Will you tell me, too? The places that you like.
[ He's easily lead, fingers slipping between the knot of her robe to loosen it in soft loops of fabric. It's radiant, the way heat pours between them, melting trepidation, sweetening desires that would otherwise seem too frightening to accept, too good to be true. Whatever instinct he has to shy back quiets and lays back down at the bottom of his soul, domesticated. What wells up in its place is a likewise desire to be touched, to be closer. ]
Of course. [ His blood's loud in his ears, but a glimpse upwards into the pacific blue of her eyes calms him. With a brush of noses, he breathes out a half-chuckle — he realizes he doesn't really know, either. ] We'll figure it out together.
[ Pulling the robe's knot loose, he places a kiss to the corner of her mouth while his palm smooths beneath its hem. He curls his fingers over the slope of her waist, squeezing lightly as he pulls himself closer to her, urging her to slough the material off of her shoulders. ]
I should probably apologize, though. [ The words sit lightly in his throat for the way his voice has gritted over; he ducks to kiss her shoulder, once, twice. ] I've got a lot of places that aren't all that pleasant to touch.
[ He doesn't imagine so, anyway, scarred as he is. ]
[ the knot loosens and the fabric sags down over her shoulders without anything holding it in place. her breath stutters on the exhale, just managing to push down the instinct to cover herself up again as his hand slips beneath. it's a gentle touch but she finds herself unprepared for it—the heat of his hand smoothing against her cooler, paler skin. should his hand wander further, he'll find her own collection of scars from both magic and weaponry: a large burn stretching diagonally across her back beginning from her right shoulder; a gash along her left bicep from a sword; smaller wounds littered here and there from arrows and lances. war is not kind to anyone, even to one who chooses tenderness in the face of destruction.
with his head against her shoulder, he misses the way her expression softens as she trails her palm along the nearest scar she can reach, the raised skin dragging along her fingertips. ]
Don't apologize. I understand.
[ he's been through so much, she thinks. each battle won, but hard-fought; a piece of himself given away that he can't get back. she presses her nose to his crown, pressing a soft kiss there as she lets the robe fall away entirely. ]
[ A smile flashed against the pretty divot of her shoulder, dispersed by the exploratory press of his lips across her skin. ]
So you do. [ Still balanced on one arm, he wraps his other around her, coarse thumb smoothing over her own constellate scars as they fall across her back. They feel like a map he doesn't yet know how to read, but he can still marvel at the sensation of it — the paths that years of violence have drawn on her. Not for the first time, he thinks... it's tenderness that scars most prominently. ] Seems like we're even more well-matched than you'd think, aren't we?
[ It'd be easy to think of their benefactors playing matchmaker, aligning these scars like the flourish of a lucky hand, but Lighter doesn't. He's going to weave this encounter with his own hands. He's choosing it because it matters.
Pulling back, Lighter shifts in a twist of the sheets, nudging her back. ]
I'd say so. [ maybe that's why she's here, letting him brush his thumb over the marred skin of her back. the sensation is slightly dulled, but she feels the warmth of it still lingering in its wake. her own thumb brushes gently over the delicate skin of his right eye, brushing the backs of her fingers down the curve of his cheek. ] So, please... you don't have to worry. I won't look away.
[ she doesn't fight it when he nudges her, going down easily to lie on her back. mercedes has never been insecure about her body—she's never had to consider it in this context—but she has the sudden urge to... cover herself, in a way, unused to being so exposed in front of anyone. it's one thing to share the baths with a friend, but it's another thing entirely to do so with man whom she's just met, even with one whom she shares an understanding with.
but she trusts him, and that still holds true. she reaches out for him instead, fingers finding purchase on his forearm and wrist to tug him gently down to meet her. ]
[ Lighter moves his weight humbly, drawn in by the press of her fingers. His gaze hadn't lingered long on the gentle swell of her body beneath him, but it was enough to appreciate how she looks in nothing but her skin. Sunlight soft, swept by a blush. He's sure that vision of her is one he'll remember forever, burned into his mind's eye.
Better that way, for when his actual eyes inevitably go.
Leaning across her on one of his elbows, his naked hip notches at her side, the rest of him still tangled in the bedding. He thinks better of putting his full weight on her, of getting between her legs right away. Instead, it's half his weight, pressing down chest to chest where his heart's drumming hard. His skin buzzes against hers, warm, but not warm enough. Because he's craving that melted incandescence of friction, of a heat that can only be made between the two of them rather than alone. Cheeks hot, he at least thinks to breathe first before he bows to kiss her again. ]
Noticed, didn't you?
[ A tilt of his head to the right, the calm pressure of her touch beneath his right eye still so near to him. ]
[ the first press of skin to skin makes her sigh, the friction so sweet it leaves her trembling in its wake. her hands find his shoulders for something to hold on to, and her back arches, briefly, as if to seek more—more contact, more of his weight, as if he could be any closer than he already is. something winds tightly in her abdomen, anticipation and desire and a number of other things that she can't quite identify; they blur together seamlessly in a flush of heat as his heartbeat aligns itself with hers. ]
Mm, [ the pad of her thumb is soft where it lingers, feather-light. it's her job to notice, after all. ] Does it still hurt?
[ in both senses—physically and emotionally. she tilts her head up to replace her thumb with her lips instead, fingers sliding into his hair to cup the back of his head. ]
[ He shakes his head, eyes shuttering beneath the touch of her lips. His lids quiver slightly, too awake, too unused to the gentleness. But he tips his head into it as if running on instinct, his purer and baser desires to be acknowledged unfurling in her hands. All of the strain and sleeplessness recede, now soothed over by her favor. ]
No, not anymore. It's been a long time. Which is good for me... [ Rolling his shoulders to prompt her to put her arms around him, a smile flicks the corners of his mouth. Close, tender. Just a little nervy. ] Because I really don't think I'm gonna be able to get enough of looking at you.
[Brushing noses, he nudges her face upwards to capture her mouth again. His lips part, slightly wet from a slip of tongue as he invites her to explore like he intends to. His touch wanders — coarse knuckles brush her jawline, fingertips flourishing at the height of her pulse point and then trailing downwards. Across her collar, over the rise of her chest where he thumbs a nipple to pinkness. He can feel the plane of her stomach tighten against him, soft skin pressed up to hard muscle. A pleased noise flutters deep in his throat as he shifts his body down against hers with a weight that he hopes comforts her in its beginning rhythm. ]
[ laughter bubbles up unbidden, a little shy but mostly charmed—she's heard those lines before and she's never put much stock in them. but here and now, laid out beneath his gaze and his sincerity, she's made to confront it and accept it. maybe it's a good thing that he chooses to kiss her then, letting lips and tongue distract her from identifying it, why it sounds so different coming from him than anyone else.
she opens up to him easily, soft gasps muffled against his mouth when he brushes over a sensitive spot—her palate, her throat, the dip between her collar. she wraps an arm around his shoulders, her other hand smoothing down the breadth of his back to palm over heated skin. she feels lightheaded, either from the kisses or the onslaught of new sensations, but she doesn't loosen her hold even as his touch wanders lower. the next gasp gets stuck in her throat, melting down into a moan as she twists up against him, pressing her chest further into his hand and his body. the proximity eases some restless part of her even as she seeks to bring him closer as if on instinct, shifting her legs apart so that he can settle between them.
and once there, she has to pull her lips away to fight for air, fingers clutching at his shoulders. ]
Lighter— [ desperate, wrecked, just from kissing alone. it's so much but it's not enough. ] Please...
[ It comes too naturally, like breathing, to surge into the spaces Mercedes makes for him. Her soft sounds ring in his ears and make his emptied lungs hurt when she shifts and he finds himself moving to her as a matter of instinct, chasing what feels right — one of the first things to feel right to him since he'd woken up in this place. He pushes the sheets away, freeing the rest of his torso from them and baring his scarred abdomen and hips, the flush of his cock against his thigh. On his knees with one hand braced on the mattress, Lighter's other palm skirts her thigh, soothing at the muscle of it as he coaxes her leg up over the angle of his hip. His arousal notches against her first, the heated weight of it nestling at her cunt; one soft, exploratory rut smears him with her wetness.
Even this much is dizzying, laying sensitivities bare that he thought he lost touch with long ago. It aches through every thud of his heart, this fullness, this point of overflow. Lashes drawn low, he sucks in the sound of her plea. He kisses her, open-mouthed and gentle, nosing the sweet, feverish round of her cheek in between. ]
Try to relax.
[ Unwilling to lift himself up too far, he weaves an arm between them and positions himself at her entrance, giving the head of his cock a rub at the tender muscle there. She gives to him after a moment of feeling it out; he crowns shallowly in the slick of her, enough to let him move his arm back upwards to gather her up against him. He thrusts once, twice, slow to accommodate her tightness.
Brows knit faintly, he swallows, pressing his brows to hers. She really feels so beautiful. ]
[ it's a strange thing to feel—the combination of anticipation and nervousness once the sheets fall away, his body pressed flush against hers from chest to hip. she feels hot all over, heartbeat loud in her ears as she hooks her leg over his hip easily, only for all the breath to leave her lungs at that first nudge of his cock against her slick center. he tells her to relax—how can she, when she's already so overwhelmed? but she finds herself nodding, bringing her other leg up over his waist, opening herself fully to him.
her brows knit together once they align, kiss-swollen lips parting as he presses deeper. she closes her eyes to the feeling, trembling in his arms by the time he gets about halfway in; each time she thinks he can't get any deeper, the angle shifts and he sinks another inch further until he's completely seated inside, the base of his cock nudging sweetly against her clit. her breaths turn shallow, fingers digging little crescents into his shoulders as her body accommodates to the intrusion, to how full she feels, balanced precariously on the knife's edge of pleasure before it tips over into pain. it's so much that she's dizzy with it, giving in to sensation, to the way he holds her so closely that even if she were to shake apart completely, he would keep her together. a small part of her—the part of her that had always accepted that her body would inevitably be used this way, not for pleasure but for ambition—feels soothed by it: the care, the gentleness layered with safety; an intimacy she'd never known but always craved.
her body is no longer consecrated, but his touch and warmth feel like a blessing anyway. ]
It's okay, [ she says eventually, after minutes or hours. her lips find his again, less of a kiss and more of a sharing of breath. ] You can move. I want you to.
[ Lighter's never wanted for warmth. Even when it didn't benefit him, that's always been his wreath, his laurel of fire. And still he's never felt anything quite like the clutch of her body as he bottoms out, her willing heat melted where it meets him skin to skin. Like this, he's unadorned, harnessed by neither his sovereign gold or lowering red — not even the scorched silver of his regret hangs around his neck, knotted at his throat like a noose. But if he has the opportunity to wear anything to remind him of why he still matters, he hopes its the crescent phases of her fingertips delving into his skin.
He stretches his hips into the soft, dense circle of her thighs, belly banding with tension where it rests his weight firmly against hers. He can feel her heartbeat where it thrums against his, the pulse of her walls closed around him — it's the sweetest he thinks he's ever heard blood sing. His angle shifts upwards just enough to nudge at her clit, cock twitching deep inside her at the flutter of nerves it awakens. ]
Alright. [ A murmur rusted over with breathlessness, not from a lack of stamina but from how stunning she is to feel. He dips a loose kiss against her mouth, quickly being unable to resist the taste of her kiss-wetted lips. ] Breathe out. I've got you.
[ Trailing his mouth across her jaw in flashes of tongue, soothing discomfort where he can, he eases back and thrusts in earnest. There's strength in the motion, the way he lifts and buries his cock deep into the tender well of her body, but his rhythm measures itself, almost too aware. ]
[ there's something so satisfying in the way he presses her against the mattress, warmer than he has any right to be. she feels the muscles of his back and shoulders shift beneath her fingers, feels the solid thrust of his hips against hers; she shifts restlessly beneath him, as if her body can't decide if it wants to squirm away or pull him closer, deeper. heat lances sharply down her spine, spider-webbing down her limbs, and she breathes through it like he tells her to, face flushed with agonized pleasure. slowly, her muscles loosen their vice grip around him, the walls of her cunt fluttering whenever he buries his full length within her.
she's wet enough now that she can hear it, the slick sounds of their joining echoing back at her over her sharp gasps and moans. it feels as if she's hurtling toward the end, spurred on by the rhythm of his movements and the firm grasp he still has on her, steady and unyielding. his name falls from her lips like a prayer, hummed into the quiet of the suite as she shifts her legs higher over his body, ankles locked at the middle of his back. it changes the angle of her hips to bring him even deeper, lashes fluttering open with a sharp gasp as her gaze finds his, hazy sapphire meeting the green-gold of his.
it's okay, she wants to say again, but she can't muster the words beneath the onslaught of sensation. instead, she reaches for him to pull him down into a kiss, hot and open-mouthed. ]
[ His nerves sweep, heartbeat running high and feverish in his body; he's hanging on every noise she makes, the sounds of her pleasure impressing on what feels like his soul. If he still has one, she's defining its outline, holding it up to the sacred light of her own. Dipping down into her arms when beckoned as if helpless to do anything else, his pace starts to overrun with desire the easier she takes him. Lighter meets her lips with a shuddered gasp, tautness pulling white-hot up through the angles of his body. It grips at the thundering of his heart where it's pressed between them, the broad plane of his chest running up against the soft swell of hers.
Rolling his shoulders into the harbor of her slender arms, skin coated in a sheen of sweat, his back bows, ruts sharpening against the damp juncture of her thighs. His cock presses deep in a rush of her slick, hitting a tightness high in her body that makes him release a heady groan. His pace skips once, length sliding long and low until their bodies lock so closely together that he jostles up against her clit. He aims there again, craving her release in a way that makes his ears ring with the collision of their skin. ]
That's it, Mercie. [ He pants and his kisses shallow, muffled by the eager suck he gives her tongue as he parts just barely, the sunset hue of his attention glassy and clear. His encouragement husks over her mouth, the beautiful flush of her fair skin. ] Come on.
[ the kiss is desperate, messy, her back arching up off the mattress to meet the press of his body as if she could meld them together somehow, as if he isn't as close as he could possibly be. it's still so new and foreign—the closeness, the intimacy, the fact that he's the first to ever see her this way; the fact that he still remains in spite of all her flaws laid bare beneath him. her heels knock lightly against his back as his pace quickens and he reaches deeper, head thrown back against the pillow with a ragged moan, higher in pitch before it melts into a desperate sob. she's close—something that she can't exactly identify but knows that she can only achieve with him.
she's caught between wanting this moment to stretch on forever and finding completion, but her body makes the choice for her, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of his cock buried so deep and the sweet friction against her clit. she cries out softly, the way he says her name washing over her like a gentle caress as her body goes taut beneath him, fingers slipping over the slick skin of his shoulders and back before tangling into his hair. her inner muscles seize up around him, clenching down around his cock like she wants nothing more than to keep him right where he is, hips stuttering against his as if still determined to meet his thrusts. ]
[ Sensing her closeness in the way her body begins to tense around him, Lighter folds her safely to the breadth of his chest to support her, heat coiling down the back of his neck where her pale fingers draw upwards into dark, damp locks. She carves through his thoughts, almost down to the bone; all the sensitivities he's got left lay themselves bare for her.
It's Mercedes' voice that gets him to shudder, the plaintive keens breathed against him making her release all the sweeter — unshy and, he hopes, unlonely where the impossibly warm arcs of their bodies meet. A desperation for closeness answered. He rides her out in slower, more meaningful movements, cock crowning up against the tender walls of her cunt as they flex and flutter around him. Softer, somehow, for the way the orgasm relaxes her belly and thighs once through. He still moves in low, easy pumps, hips canting to soak up every last clutch her body's willing to give. Though he remains hard, heartbeat hammering, his focus strays from the pull of his own body, stamina holding strong. ]
Good, [ Lighter encourages from where his pulse is still hitched high in his chest, voice feverish and dusky. He unwinds an arm from her to caress her cheek with his palm, cradling the weight of her head for a moment. ] that's really good.
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peacockstop2025-01-15 09:00 pm
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[ Deflective, but not uncharacteristic of him.
And still, with the scant time spent here, listening to her share things with him that feel like gossamer sunlight cutting through thick grey, he thinks he knows why she hadn't let him answer the first question, instead saddling him with the second and third. Exhaling, he lifts her hand again, this time to press the flats of her knuckles to his lips. ]
I wouldn't regret you.
[ Lighter isn't familiar with the taste of defeat, but like this, he thinks he could get used to it. ]
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it's strange—she's barely moved at all in the past few minutes, but her heart is beating so quickly. ]
I hope not. [ she's teasing a little bit; the fondness has yet to leave her expression. ] I wouldn't regret you either. I know I won't.
[ and she'll continue to tell him that, even if she has to do so for the entirety of their stay here. ]
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Now I've really gotta put my money where my mouth is. [ A little puncture mark made by well-worn grit, just to let some of the tension he'd felt breathe out. It's easier then, for some of that confidence to well into its place. His mouth follows suit, up to tender knuckles, the back of her hand. All the way to her wrist, the underside of which thrums with her pulse. It's a good feel, he thinks. ] Since you're so kindly accepting my terms.
[ Maybe he's not the best person to draw close to, but the idea of someone else wresting something so important from her for cards or money makes his gut burn.
Even loathe to make a decision, sometimes he does so. And sometimes, it changes his life. ]
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she has not known this kind of touch from a man who didn't want something from her—her body, her blood, or both. lighter can't know the significance of it, how freeing it is to be touched as she is herself and nothing more. ]
I think you already have, [ is what she shakily manages, swallowing down a soft sound when his lips inevitably find her pulse. she reaches out with her other hand to gently brush his hair away from his face, fingertips brushing along his jaw. ] But you won't hear any complaints from me if you feel it's not enough.
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Such a faint noise and it's already sticking in his ears and coalescing, the sound of it sweeping his nerves. Her touch along the line of his face has him pulling back to deliver a final kiss to the heel of her palm, leading it along to cup the other side of his jaw. Toughened fingers loosely curled over her hand, he leans his weight into her palms, breath sighing long and slow from the bottom of his chest. His thumb brushes over the back of her hand once, twice, tracing fragile bone as if ensuring the weight of him isn't too heavy for her to bear. No matter how profound it feels. ]
Do you feel like it's not enough? [ An earnest question. He's seeing the signs, but still... Lighter's gaze rises, giving her the benefit of its presence. ] Do you want me to show you?
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there's a lump in her throat, heart stuttering in her chest. he turns the question on her and her next inhale is tremulous, delicate; is it possible to feel like it's not enough and too much at the same time? suddenly, she's both too aware of their proximity and how much closer they could be. surely, he could hear how her heart is determined to punch its way out of her ribs. ]
... Yes. [ she meets the green gold of his gaze but can't hold it for too long, eyes fluttering shut as she leans in closer to press her forehead against his. she can feel his breath against her cheek, her mouth; unwilling to have him mistake her hesitation for fear, she leans the rest of the way in, her lips brushing gently against his. ] Please.
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Okay. [ A contented rasp, hot in the hollow of his throat. When he pulls back a little, there's some humor in his gaze, the low pulse of red deeper, more vibrant. ] I may look calm, but the fact that you agreed makes me want to pass out.
[ At least he's being honest. He can feel the thrum of her pulse as it nears the surface of her skin, the way she's become so warm. Not going back on what he'd offered, he shifts beneath the sheets, leaning forward on a broad palm that divots the mattress. ]
We can go slow.
[ A brush of his nose across her cheek, idle presses of his lips here and there. ]
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It's okay, [ she laughs sheepishly, a little watery. ] I feel like I might, too.
[ does it make it better knowing that he isn't the only one? she doesn't know. but his honesty does provide some comfort, calming the staccato beat of her pulse momentarily before he shifts forward. ]
You don't have to. [ she swallows, melting a little beneath his kisses, tipping her face up to them like a flower to the sun. ] I'll be all right.
[ her head tilts, catching his lips with hers briefly once he gets close enough. ]
I trust you.
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You can trust me. [ — is finally what he decides on, quietly sweeping his free hand up to her cheek to steady her trembling. It's a little for himself too. ] Which is exactly why I think we should go slow.
[ His lips meet hers again, once, twice, growing hot and pliant at the seams but not pressing past that boundary just yet. When he pulls away, just scant enough to still feel the buzz of her warmth, nose to nose, he gazes thoughtfully at the pretty downturn of her lashes, the color of his heat on her skin. ]
If I'm getting to be the one to touch you, I want to know the places you like. So you're gonna have to tell me...
[ Tucking pale locks behind her ear, he angles in to offer her parted lips and a faint brush of his tongue in return. ]
...alright?
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or maybe it's him and the safety she can feel in the warmth of his hands.
the lump in her throat has faded, now that the newness of it is replaced by the desire to pull him even closer. the kisses settle her, eager to reciprocate despite her inexperience; another sound gets lost between the blur of one kiss to the next, soft and halfway to a moan, as she tries to separate the meaning of his words from the way they feel. ]
... Okay. [ she doesn't know the places she likes—she wouldn't know before this. but she wants to find out, and it's without hesitation that she takes one of his hands, guiding it to the knot where her robe is secured. before she lets go of his hand, she finds his gaze again, the haze clearing from her eyes momentarily. ] Will you tell me, too? The places that you like.
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Of course. [ His blood's loud in his ears, but a glimpse upwards into the pacific blue of her eyes calms him. With a brush of noses, he breathes out a half-chuckle — he realizes he doesn't really know, either. ] We'll figure it out together.
[ Pulling the robe's knot loose, he places a kiss to the corner of her mouth while his palm smooths beneath its hem. He curls his fingers over the slope of her waist, squeezing lightly as he pulls himself closer to her, urging her to slough the material off of her shoulders. ]
I should probably apologize, though. [ The words sit lightly in his throat for the way his voice has gritted over; he ducks to kiss her shoulder, once, twice. ] I've got a lot of places that aren't all that pleasant to touch.
[ He doesn't imagine so, anyway, scarred as he is. ]
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with his head against her shoulder, he misses the way her expression softens as she trails her palm along the nearest scar she can reach, the raised skin dragging along her fingertips. ]
Don't apologize. I understand.
[ he's been through so much, she thinks. each battle won, but hard-fought; a piece of himself given away that he can't get back. she presses her nose to his crown, pressing a soft kiss there as she lets the robe fall away entirely. ]
I don't mind.
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So you do. [ Still balanced on one arm, he wraps his other around her, coarse thumb smoothing over her own constellate scars as they fall across her back. They feel like a map he doesn't yet know how to read, but he can still marvel at the sensation of it — the paths that years of violence have drawn on her. Not for the first time, he thinks... it's tenderness that scars most prominently. ] Seems like we're even more well-matched than you'd think, aren't we?
[ It'd be easy to think of their benefactors playing matchmaker, aligning these scars like the flourish of a lucky hand, but Lighter doesn't. He's going to weave this encounter with his own hands. He's choosing it because it matters.
Pulling back, Lighter shifts in a twist of the sheets, nudging her back. ]
How's laying back down sound?
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[ she doesn't fight it when he nudges her, going down easily to lie on her back. mercedes has never been insecure about her body—she's never had to consider it in this context—but she has the sudden urge to... cover herself, in a way, unused to being so exposed in front of anyone. it's one thing to share the baths with a friend, but it's another thing entirely to do so with man whom she's just met, even with one whom she shares an understanding with.
but she trusts him, and that still holds true. she reaches out for him instead, fingers finding purchase on his forearm and wrist to tug him gently down to meet her. ]
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Better that way, for when his actual eyes inevitably go.
Leaning across her on one of his elbows, his naked hip notches at her side, the rest of him still tangled in the bedding. He thinks better of putting his full weight on her, of getting between her legs right away. Instead, it's half his weight, pressing down chest to chest where his heart's drumming hard. His skin buzzes against hers, warm, but not warm enough. Because he's craving that melted incandescence of friction, of a heat that can only be made between the two of them rather than alone. Cheeks hot, he at least thinks to breathe first before he bows to kiss her again. ]
Noticed, didn't you?
[ A tilt of his head to the right, the calm pressure of her touch beneath his right eye still so near to him. ]
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Mm, [ the pad of her thumb is soft where it lingers, feather-light. it's her job to notice, after all. ] Does it still hurt?
[ in both senses—physically and emotionally. she tilts her head up to replace her thumb with her lips instead, fingers sliding into his hair to cup the back of his head. ]
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No, not anymore. It's been a long time. Which is good for me... [ Rolling his shoulders to prompt her to put her arms around him, a smile flicks the corners of his mouth. Close, tender. Just a little nervy. ] Because I really don't think I'm gonna be able to get enough of looking at you.
[Brushing noses, he nudges her face upwards to capture her mouth again. His lips part, slightly wet from a slip of tongue as he invites her to explore like he intends to. His touch wanders — coarse knuckles brush her jawline, fingertips flourishing at the height of her pulse point and then trailing downwards. Across her collar, over the rise of her chest where he thumbs a nipple to pinkness. He can feel the plane of her stomach tighten against him, soft skin pressed up to hard muscle. A pleased noise flutters deep in his throat as he shifts his body down against hers with a weight that he hopes comforts her in its beginning rhythm. ]
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she opens up to him easily, soft gasps muffled against his mouth when he brushes over a sensitive spot—her palate, her throat, the dip between her collar. she wraps an arm around his shoulders, her other hand smoothing down the breadth of his back to palm over heated skin. she feels lightheaded, either from the kisses or the onslaught of new sensations, but she doesn't loosen her hold even as his touch wanders lower. the next gasp gets stuck in her throat, melting down into a moan as she twists up against him, pressing her chest further into his hand and his body. the proximity eases some restless part of her even as she seeks to bring him closer as if on instinct, shifting her legs apart so that he can settle between them.
and once there, she has to pull her lips away to fight for air, fingers clutching at his shoulders. ]
Lighter— [ desperate, wrecked, just from kissing alone. it's so much but it's not enough. ] Please...
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Even this much is dizzying, laying sensitivities bare that he thought he lost touch with long ago. It aches through every thud of his heart, this fullness, this point of overflow. Lashes drawn low, he sucks in the sound of her plea. He kisses her, open-mouthed and gentle, nosing the sweet, feverish round of her cheek in between. ]
Try to relax.
[ Unwilling to lift himself up too far, he weaves an arm between them and positions himself at her entrance, giving the head of his cock a rub at the tender muscle there. She gives to him after a moment of feeling it out; he crowns shallowly in the slick of her, enough to let him move his arm back upwards to gather her up against him. He thrusts once, twice, slow to accommodate her tightness.
Brows knit faintly, he swallows, pressing his brows to hers. She really feels so beautiful. ]
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her brows knit together once they align, kiss-swollen lips parting as he presses deeper. she closes her eyes to the feeling, trembling in his arms by the time he gets about halfway in; each time she thinks he can't get any deeper, the angle shifts and he sinks another inch further until he's completely seated inside, the base of his cock nudging sweetly against her clit. her breaths turn shallow, fingers digging little crescents into his shoulders as her body accommodates to the intrusion, to how full she feels, balanced precariously on the knife's edge of pleasure before it tips over into pain. it's so much that she's dizzy with it, giving in to sensation, to the way he holds her so closely that even if she were to shake apart completely, he would keep her together. a small part of her—the part of her that had always accepted that her body would inevitably be used this way, not for pleasure but for ambition—feels soothed by it: the care, the gentleness layered with safety; an intimacy she'd never known but always craved.
her body is no longer consecrated, but his touch and warmth feel like a blessing anyway. ]
It's okay, [ she says eventually, after minutes or hours. her lips find his again, less of a kiss and more of a sharing of breath. ] You can move. I want you to.
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He stretches his hips into the soft, dense circle of her thighs, belly banding with tension where it rests his weight firmly against hers. He can feel her heartbeat where it thrums against his, the pulse of her walls closed around him — it's the sweetest he thinks he's ever heard blood sing. His angle shifts upwards just enough to nudge at her clit, cock twitching deep inside her at the flutter of nerves it awakens. ]
Alright. [ A murmur rusted over with breathlessness, not from a lack of stamina but from how stunning she is to feel. He dips a loose kiss against her mouth, quickly being unable to resist the taste of her kiss-wetted lips. ] Breathe out. I've got you.
[ Trailing his mouth across her jaw in flashes of tongue, soothing discomfort where he can, he eases back and thrusts in earnest. There's strength in the motion, the way he lifts and buries his cock deep into the tender well of her body, but his rhythm measures itself, almost too aware. ]
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she's wet enough now that she can hear it, the slick sounds of their joining echoing back at her over her sharp gasps and moans. it feels as if she's hurtling toward the end, spurred on by the rhythm of his movements and the firm grasp he still has on her, steady and unyielding. his name falls from her lips like a prayer, hummed into the quiet of the suite as she shifts her legs higher over his body, ankles locked at the middle of his back. it changes the angle of her hips to bring him even deeper, lashes fluttering open with a sharp gasp as her gaze finds his, hazy sapphire meeting the green-gold of his.
it's okay, she wants to say again, but she can't muster the words beneath the onslaught of sensation. instead, she reaches for him to pull him down into a kiss, hot and open-mouthed. ]
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Rolling his shoulders into the harbor of her slender arms, skin coated in a sheen of sweat, his back bows, ruts sharpening against the damp juncture of her thighs. His cock presses deep in a rush of her slick, hitting a tightness high in her body that makes him release a heady groan. His pace skips once, length sliding long and low until their bodies lock so closely together that he jostles up against her clit. He aims there again, craving her release in a way that makes his ears ring with the collision of their skin. ]
That's it, Mercie. [ He pants and his kisses shallow, muffled by the eager suck he gives her tongue as he parts just barely, the sunset hue of his attention glassy and clear. His encouragement husks over her mouth, the beautiful flush of her fair skin. ] Come on.
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she's caught between wanting this moment to stretch on forever and finding completion, but her body makes the choice for her, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of his cock buried so deep and the sweet friction against her clit. she cries out softly, the way he says her name washing over her like a gentle caress as her body goes taut beneath him, fingers slipping over the slick skin of his shoulders and back before tangling into his hair. her inner muscles seize up around him, clenching down around his cock like she wants nothing more than to keep him right where he is, hips stuttering against his as if still determined to meet his thrusts. ]
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It's Mercedes' voice that gets him to shudder, the plaintive keens breathed against him making her release all the sweeter — unshy and, he hopes, unlonely where the impossibly warm arcs of their bodies meet. A desperation for closeness answered. He rides her out in slower, more meaningful movements, cock crowning up against the tender walls of her cunt as they flex and flutter around him. Softer, somehow, for the way the orgasm relaxes her belly and thighs once through. He still moves in low, easy pumps, hips canting to soak up every last clutch her body's willing to give. Though he remains hard, heartbeat hammering, his focus strays from the pull of his own body, stamina holding strong. ]
Good, [ Lighter encourages from where his pulse is still hitched high in his chest, voice feverish and dusky. He unwinds an arm from her to caress her cheek with his palm, cradling the weight of her head for a moment. ] that's really good.
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