【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
It has recently come to our attention that many of our guests have not been focusing on their health and wellness. In an effort to encourage healthy living and help our beloved guests get in shape, a grand sports festival will be held in the Golden Peacock. This sports festival will include many small games and four large games.
Prior to the festival, guests will have the opportunity to train and prepare for the games with our expert coaches.
We hope you are as excited as we are! And, as always, we hope you enjoy your stay. 】
BEAK
MEET THE TEAM
♦ DIAMONDS GAME ♦
OMEGADOME: HUNTING GAME
A cheerful pair of game managers stand outside the conservatory doors and block all guests that try to enter. They quickly explain that a special Diamonds game is taking place inside and only guests that agree to participate may enter. This game is a physical exercise that riffs on "Hunting", which is a popular sport in many different countries and civilizations. Of course, it is one hundred percent safe, and all guests that play are eligible to win massive chip prizes, store vouchers, fabulous prizes, and more.
Details about the game? Those can't be shared outside of the conservatory. Only the brave and those willing to risks will reap the benefits of this Diamonds game. So step right up, dear guests, and sign this waiver before stepping into the flourishing beauty of the conservatory for a brand new adventure.
♥ HEARTS GAME ♥
DOUBLES' THERMO: SURVIVAL GAME
Chickadees is sparing no expense on advertising their e-sport games over the course of the sports festival. Posters, notifications, stickers, fliers! Come one, come all. Sports don't need to be physical. Guests that duck into the arcade will find a variety of e-sport games to enjoy, but the real showstopper that every single employee is aggressively promoting is the new immersive VR game, DOUBLES' THERMO.
A large swath of egg-shaped pods have been installed in the back half of Chickadees. Any guest that shows an iota of interest will be assaulted by employees encouraging them to give it a try. They will offer vouchers for a free session, encourage with mentions of prizes that can be won from the arcade's coveted prize wall, and persuade by praising how high tech and immersive the experience is. Some employees are desperate enough to trick or push guests into the pods if they aren't willing to go in themselves.
However they've ended up inside the VR egg, guests will find themselves submerged in strange fluid as the lid closes. Everything fades away into darkness as the game loads...
♣ CLUBS GAME ♣
QUACK AND COVER: SHOOTING GAME
Cloaca & Dagger has temporarily outfitted itself as a neon-bright paintball course. Gone are the wild sex setups in exchange for series of obstacles and obstructions for guests to navigate while in pursuit of paintball championship. This high intensity game of strategy and physical fitness promises to exhilarate! Welcome to Quack and Cover, a game where your shooting skills and ingenuity will be put to the test.
So say the game managers at the door before following up with a few disclaimers. Cloaca & Dagger is not responsible for any physical or psychological trauma guests may incur while inside. Guests that join the game will then be outfitted in tight black underarmor and supplied with a paintball gun and protective mask before being let loose on the course.
♠ SPADES GAME ♠
PECKING ORDER: MMA GAME
During night hours, many long-standing guests make their way through Talon toward the gym’s creaky basement stairs. Three floors down and then through a desolate hallway with littered with abandoned equipment. Double doors wait at the end, unassuming until they’ve been opened…
Flashing lights, jeers, and the thick odor of sweat. You’ve found the Pecking Order, a late-night mixed martial arts event where guests show their prowess in the ring. Spectating guests shout and messily eat snacks on make-shift bleachers while fighters clash inches away, using only their bodies to fight for dominance and win. Pecking Order is very informal; guests only need to sign up in order to get added to the docket. Anyone can watch, though they will be vaguely warned at the door that even spectating comes with risks.
LOCKER ROOMS
YOU WASH MY BACK, I'LL WASH YOURS
Every training and game location has a door labeled LOCKER ROOM right outside the entrance. These doors all connect to the same massive locker room. The magic of these locker room doors goes one way. Trying to go back to the place you just were by backtracking will not work — you’ll just end up in Beak! All guests will be advised to finish their games before hitting the showers.
The Golden Peacock is proud to present our upgraded and extended locker room. Please come in and enjoy the facilities, catch-up with your teammates, and enjoy some healthy drinks provided by our favorite resort convenience store, Cock-a-doodle-doo’s!
▶ 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 March 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.
▶ 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.
[SOMEHOW SWEATING NITROGLYCERINE MAKES MORE SENSE THAN A GUY BECOMING SUTURES???]
[. . . it's good to hear that Bakugou's friend didn't need to sacrifice everything to save his life, but still. . . Akira can't even imagine how he'd feel if someone gave up that much to rescue him. he'd probably never get over the guilt. hm. maybe that's something he should examine one day. how strange it feels to imagine someone caring about him that much]
[at any rate, Bakugou seems to be handling it much better, and Akira finally smiles]
I think that's the best way to repay him.
[. . . reluctantly, Akira glides his hand away from that scar, allowing fingers to trail further up Bakugou's chest, across his collarbone, and back to his neck. there, Akira rests his palm at the juncture of jaw and cheek, like he's gently cradling Bakugou's face in his hand]
it's a hard feeling. as a hero, Bakugo places the responsibility on himself to carry his life even more importantly moving forward. someone else thought so highly of him he was willing to die to ensure Bakugo lived. he can't throw his life away or waste it, because it's no longer "only" his life. even if it's naught more than flesh and bone, Edgeshot became part of him, and it's his duty to make sure the other hero's sacrifice wasn't in vain. continuing to be the greatest hero possible honors that decision. because if he does anything else, the guilt and shame will consume him completely.
Akira met Bakugo after he had about six months or more to recover, along with the hotel's magical accelerated healing. can't encourage someone to fuck around when his heart and lungs are barely recovered from being assploded.]
No shit. [he didn't mean to warn Akira off the scar, but guesses it'd be a bit odd to go fondling something with such a history. for a little while at least. Bakugo arches a brow when the other teen rests his hand on his jaw, thumb across his cheek. such a tender gesture... with some sassy sweet words.] Tch. Just noticing that now?
[. . . and Akira has hardly been dissuaded from paying proper attention to that scar. if anything, knowing the significance of that wound just makes him want to explore it even more. he'll come back to it in a bit; for now, he keeps his hand pressed against the side of Bakugou's face, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace sharp cheekbones as he grins]
Nope. Noticed it before. Just thought I'd say something about it now.
[there's a kid whose head's literally a comic book speech bubble.
dammit. Akira's bouncing around between serious, weirdly tender, flirty, and something else, leaving Bakugo momentarily unsure how to react. jaw a bit tense, face warming despite himself, eyes jumping from the thief's eyes to lips to hair to cheek to eyes again. that stupid thumb going caress caress right below his eyelid isn't helping things either! half his head tempts a tilt and nuzzle, half jabs a proverbial heel in the ground out of pride.]
Dammit, you're too fucking slow. [saying that to Akira or himself? who knows! Bakugo abruptly leans forward and kisses Akira, a firm, warm touch with just the right amount of cant so they don't ram noses or click teeth.
[the way Akira immediately melts makes it clear that he has been thinking about this for far too long. too fucking slow indeed. . . there were probably a million other times during this conversation that he could have closed the distance between them to make good on the promise to mess around. but. . . he can't say he regrets putting it off, if it gave him the chance to learn more about his companion. his. . . friend]
[but now that lips have met, something snaps, and Akira returns that kiss with eager hunger as his hand slides from Bakugou's cheek to the back of his neck. he grins, muttering a quiet but amused-- sorry, sorry-- against the kiss. his bad!! he just got distracted. . .]
[don't "oh, finally" him! if you wanted to do it, fucking do it! shy prick. Bakugo could fall into the same category, but ha! he refuses since he did it first. fingers brush and skim across Akira's arm, following the line of his forearm, slipping the crux of his elbow, over a toned bicep, across his shoulder and around to the back of his head, where he can bury his digits into soaking black curls and hold Akira in their kiss.
kissing him. it feels... good. completely unique. tracing his lips' contours, how his cupid's bow dips in the center, lower lip's plusher than his upper, and a sudden surge forward answers his own hunger. a hand on his nape earns a low groan as Bakugo presses into the kiss, tilting his head the other way to deepen it and change their angle. fine, he'll distract him anew!]
[ah. . . yes, that groan cuts right through him, settling nice and warm in the pit of his stomach, where embers slowly begin to spark to life. he drinks it in like a man dying of thirst, fingers digging slightly into the muscles at the nape of Bakugou's neck in a gentle massage. this is also a nice distraction. another way to bond, to deepen a slowly budding friendship. a way that Akira certainly wouldn't have considered anywhere outside of the resort]
[Bakugou deepens the kiss, and Akira follows suit, mouth parting to invite his companion deeper. and in the same motion, he steps forward, free hand planted against his partner's chest to slowly push him backwards, until he bumps up against the cool tiles of the shower wall]
[nerves spark and flare to life under Akira's fingers, sizzling up the nape of his neck as his skin suddenly feels two sizes too small. heat on his face, a low groan rumbling in his throat as he presses into the kiss with the urge for more crawling around behind his lips. distraction? yeah, from everything else in this damn place. Akira's worth his entire focus, in a way Bakugo had hardly thought of before being abducted by a sex-happy bird god thing. far too intent on school and heroics to think of what to do on a date or how it'd feel to touch another guy in a shower's downpour.
an open invitation taken and he steps forward, bringing their bodies flush together even as Akira guides him backwards. legs slide past each other, a few brushing steps intertwined, before his back hits the wall and one hand manages to grab the shower head along the way to twist it towards them. barely gets above Akira's shoulder blades now, but it's better than making out as the wet wall behind him grows colder in the steam.]
[Akira's life has been anything but ordinary. . . but even amidst his supernatural adventures, he still managed to find the time to just be. . . normal. he had his fair share of crushes and daydreamy fantasies, mind meandering as he stared idly out of his classroom window. intimacy and relationships were always things he was interested in exploring, and while he absolutely loathes the way their current haunted prison approaches the topic, he has long since decided to make it work for him. it gives him a bit more agency, a bit more control, in a place that is so determined to take it away from him]
[. . . so Akira has considered what it might be like to touch, to kiss, to press himself up against someone else while enveloped in the warm steam of a hot shower. but honestly? every encounter he has had thus far while trapped in the Golden Peacock's walls has been way better than anything his curious-yet-inexperienced imagination could conjure up. and this? is no different]
[it's electric, the way their legs brush against one another as he shoves Bakugou back. it's so freakin' thrilling, the moment he feels the resistance of the shower wall, his palm laying flat against damp musces even as he moves forward to hook his ankle around Bakugou's, to keep them flush with as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. his lips curve into a pleased grin against that kiss before he dives right back into it, catching his companion's lower lip between his teeth in a sharp, playful nip]
[he mutters, voice low]
S'pose I'm not the one who'll be wearing tiles after all--
[Agency and control. Being forced to bond closely and be intimate with other people instantly had Bakugo digging his heels in, refusing out of sheer stubbornness and spite to engage in the hotel's desires. But unfortunately, the writing was on the walls. So instead of giving in, he decided for himself when and how and who he was going to be with. Yeah it was in line with the stupid bird, but it was his choice. Never letting it force him to do anything he truly didn't want to.
Akira is one of his choices. he's wanted to for a while now, embarrassing as it is to silently acknowledge in his mind. yet there it is, slithering across his gray matter via the gentle brush of nude legs across his own. back to the wall, one leg hooking around the thief's calf and holding him close with a possessive angle. right as Akira snags his other leg just above is heel, locking them both together between hot water spray and textured tile wall. skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heat to heat. pressed together from head to toe in all the right places. teeth seize his lip and he snarls in "warning" between his own whites.]
Don't make me dump your ass on the ground. [and deliberately gives his leg, and Akira's by proxy, a little shiver, letting the other boy feel similar tiles under the sole of his foot. tile he'll be wearing from a different angle if he pushes it...]
[oh my god. that's exactly the response Akira wanted. he laughs a bit breathlessly against the kiss, though that laugh quickly turns into a small groan as Bakugou's leg-- no, his entire body-- moves against Akira's. it takes all of his willpower not to let that heated contact get to him, to not allow himself to be overtaken by the haze that quickly fills his mind. he has!! other things!! he wants to do first!! foreplay is, first and foremost, Akira's favorite part of intimacy]
[with a slow exhale, Akira finally allows his hand to meander none-too-innocently across Bakugou's body again with renewed confidence. he searches for other scars this time, starting with the one on his companion's shoulder. . . before his fingers trace further down his arm, mapping out the lines of raised skin etched into biceps]
I'd challenge you to try, but-- [he is putting a pin on that for another day. for now. . . his lips finally trail away from Bakugou's to brush against the lines of his partner's jaw, scattering warm and wet kisses as he goes, pressing them feather-light down his neck] -- I have something else in mind for right now.
[what the hell is grinding and making out if not foreplay?! Bakugo's had a few partners here, but he'd be lying if he said he ever experienced a lot of foreplay with any of them. apart from basic expectations. kissing, touching, pressing, before moving onto either or of the, ahem, big ones. yet the more Akira touches him, the more their bodies meld and fit with each other's, he doesn't want to stop anything. not to break apart and escalate. this right here, feels fucking amazing.
unlike the one on his chest, the torn-edged puncture scar on Bakugo's shoulder doesn't elicit quite the same reaction. muscles in his shoulder's round tense slightly when Akira touches the scar, but a slight shudder ripples down his spine when he caresses over and finally leaves it. bicep hardens no reason other than showing off... though Akira will have to change arms if he intends to reach the jagged tears all over Bakugo's limb (his left shoulder has the puncture, but his right arm has all the seams and rips).]
But? [is all he gets out before Akira's mouth shuts him up with lips wandering down his jaw. a heady quick little gasp before Bakugo drops his head against the wall, eyes closing as the other boy begins messing with his neck. why the hell's it so damn sensitive when Akira touches it?!] Gonna... tell me... or let me guess...
[yes, Akira does swap his curious explorations to Bakugou's right arm so he can touch those well-stitched seams, too. he is leaving no scar untouched!]
Think it might be. . . [another kiss against Bakugou's neck, this one long and lingering, sharp enough to leave a bright red splotch in its wake. that is on purpose; there is just something about Bakugou's beautifully marked-up body that has Akira wanting to add his own touches to the canvas] . . . way more fun to make you guess.
[lips continue to trail further down, this time across Bakugou's scarred shoulder. . . and there they stay, tracing the lines of raised skin much like his fingers had earlier]
[they did a lot of work to reconstruct his arm and hand. layering, building, bolting, gluing stitching. a damn wreck. but he's worked it back to full strength and ability now (with some help from the stupid resort upon arrival) so scars are all that remains of his original injures. and the doctor's said he'd never get it back to normal. fuck you, doctors!]
Dammit, you're gonna leave marks... [as if that's a problem, despite his grumbling voice, it's breathless and needy. he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for Akira's mouth wherever he wants to put it. fingers curl against the thief's hip and he grinds his shoulders against the wall in some weird effort to "escape" those touches he doesn't even want to stop.]
Think... I've got a... pretty fucking good idea. [especially as that wicked mouth begins to drop. his breath hitches again when Akira's lips find his shoulder, deliberately kissing and mouthing over his scar as Bakugo's shoulder muscles and bicep visibly flex from the rush of icy sensations.]
[cheekily, as soon as Bakugou grumbles a half-hearted complaint]
I don't see you stopping me.
[so he must like it, judging by those breathless words, and the inviting way he gives Akira more access to his neck. good. because Akira is just barely getting started]
[the shoulder scar is a nice appetizer, and Akira likes the way touching and kissing it makes Bakugou react. even more than that. . . he likes the way that marred skin feels underneath his lips, rough and raw and fucking beautiful. he could stay here all day, alternating between paying that scar much-deserved attention and leaving more hickeys across the slope of Bakugou's neck. but no. there is more work to do]
[he presses one last kiss against that shoulder scar, before trailing the remaining kisses further down again, tracing the line of Bakugou's collarbone and. . . yes, leaving some more red marks along the way, each one pricking like a needle against Bakugou's skin. but he doesn't stop there; Akira's hands then come to rest at Bakugou's sides, mostly to keep him steady as one of those kisses finally dips low enough to trace the edges of the blow that nearly killed him]
[and, with a quiet mutter, breath washing hot against damp skin--]
Has anyone ever told you that these are beautiful?
Shut up. [so much more effective than his previous complaint. if he didn't at least tolerate it, he wouldn't be letting Akira get as far as he has! breath cutting short, skin heating up, muscles crawling with wire tension as the other man continues working his mouth over his damn neck. leaving marks. why the hell wouldn't he leave marks?
tougher skin makes up the scar tissue, a faintly-raised rim along the torn edges before sinking inward a bare amount the further towards the center Akira's lips go. pierced through muscle, skin, and bone, taking almost a month and several visits to the hospital with recovery girl's quirk to hasten his healing. Akira keeps messing with it orally and Bakugo's torn between the instinctive urge to shove his mouth away before his nerves set fire to his skin and the need to cling to both shower wall and the thief's hips to weather a surge of sensations.
mercifully, the guy opts to leave it and Bakugo sags against the wall with a husky breath, kicking a heel back to brace on the tiles. more marks bloom on his skin, bastard, and his head drops towards his other shoulder. one hand slides down to rest on Akira's hand as it trails his obliques, only barely realizing the guy was skirting dangerously close to the initial shore of his chest's burst wound. until his lips land there and it's like someone poked his nerves with a lighter. teeth clench, toes curl, a hissing breath, and he jolts under the feeling.] Wha-? ... why the hell... would someone say that?
[nice. the sharp inhale, the way Bakugou's body jumps underneath his touch. . . it just encourages Akira even further, sends more heat settling in his stomach, makes him want to drag even more noises and micro-movements from his partner in any way possible. his next kiss trails even further in, pressed more at the center of the injury, long and enduring]
Why?
[another hum vibrates against warm skin. another kiss is pressed against that scar as Akira's hands finally glide down the edges of Bakugou's body, coming to rest at the sharp points of his hips]
. . . because it's true. What other reason would someone need?
[bastard. Bakugo plants an arm on the thief's shoulder, fingers digging into his light skin. he feels him leaning forward, completely not dissuaded from his pursuit, and the hero can't find it in himself to stop him. despite the way his lips curl and a low grunt of confused feelings slip between his grit teeth.
red eyes clench shut, his fingers tremble slightly as Akira works his way further towards the center. feels like fucking ice and fire simultaneously, nerves reporting a jumble of flummoxed sensations: numb, ticklish, pain, pleasure-]
Haa-ah! [the center of his injury is only slightly raised compared to the rest of the so-shallow crater, as it's the epicenter of the seam edgeshot sewed above his repaired sternum. but damn is it suddenly sensitive? and why does Akira think he's gonna talk while he's mouthing over the damn thing?!] Most... people don't find them attractive.
[scars in general. words rush from his mouth in a single breath, thanks to those vibrations tremoring from Akira's lips to his skin.]
[they don't matter in the long run. they especially don't matter right now, when it's just the two of them, alone together in a steamy shower stall. for this moment and this moment only, Bakugou's scars are Akira's to admire. . . and he will more than make up for the wrong opinions of "most people."]
[. . . the next time he dips his head to admire that jagged wound, it is with his tongue rather than his lips, tracing the edges slowly and purposefully, and savoring the flavor of damp skin and water on his senses. and those hands, resting oh-so-innocently on Bakugou's hips. . .?]
[they dip lower and inward, fingers finally skimming to the insides of Bakugou's thighs, and then to the length in between. his touches are exploratory, with just enough pressure to elicit some pleasure]
Never said you were. [dammit, why's that immediate defiance so fucking attractive? every part of his words ring true, Bakugo reaches for him both physically and something more internal he's not gonna talk about. steam wraps around them as easily as the hero's arm hooks around Akira's shoulders, pulling him in despite the way the other man's head's ducked down towards his chest.
doesn't make handling the constant attention and flaring of his nerves easier as Akira continues to mess with the wound. no more lips, this time with tongue, and Bakugo jerks his head back, thudding against the tiles with a heated snarl of surprise. fuck, he was trying to be prepared for that, and it feels like a damn ice cube is outlining his scar's rims.
fingers dig into Akira's shoulders, clenching with a subtle quiver. push him away? fuck, he feels like he should, but as hard as he's gripping the other man's skin... Bakugo stiffens as fingers run the inside of his strong thighs, brushing over his member before exploring the length and tip. not hard or deliberate, but tentative and wandering, clashing with the sensations above. fuck, he's gonna steal his damn breath this way.]
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peacockstop2025-03-15 09:00 pm
no subject
[. . . it's good to hear that Bakugou's friend didn't need to sacrifice everything to save his life, but still. . . Akira can't even imagine how he'd feel if someone gave up that much to rescue him. he'd probably never get over the guilt. hm. maybe that's something he should examine one day. how strange it feels to imagine someone caring about him that much]
[at any rate, Bakugou seems to be handling it much better, and Akira finally smiles]
I think that's the best way to repay him.
[. . . reluctantly, Akira glides his hand away from that scar, allowing fingers to trail further up Bakugou's chest, across his collarbone, and back to his neck. there, Akira rests his palm at the juncture of jaw and cheek, like he's gently cradling Bakugou's face in his hand]
You're a pretty brave guy, Sparky.
no subject
it's a hard feeling. as a hero, Bakugo places the responsibility on himself to carry his life even more importantly moving forward. someone else thought so highly of him he was willing to die to ensure Bakugo lived. he can't throw his life away or waste it, because it's no longer "only" his life. even if it's naught more than flesh and bone, Edgeshot became part of him, and it's his duty to make sure the other hero's sacrifice wasn't in vain. continuing to be the greatest hero possible honors that decision. because if he does anything else, the guilt and shame will consume him completely.
Akira met Bakugo after he had about six months or more to recover, along with the hotel's magical accelerated healing. can't encourage someone to fuck around when his heart and lungs are barely recovered from being assploded.]
No shit. [he didn't mean to warn Akira off the scar, but guesses it'd be a bit odd to go fondling something with such a history. for a little while at least. Bakugo arches a brow when the other teen rests his hand on his jaw, thumb across his cheek. such a tender gesture... with some sassy sweet words.] Tch. Just noticing that now?
[yeah, he's taunting him.]
no subject
[. . . and Akira has hardly been dissuaded from paying proper attention to that scar. if anything, knowing the significance of that wound just makes him want to explore it even more. he'll come back to it in a bit; for now, he keeps his hand pressed against the side of Bakugou's face, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace sharp cheekbones as he grins]
Nope. Noticed it before. Just thought I'd say something about it now.
[. . .]
[an exhale. the grin softens]
. . . anyway. . .
no subject
dammit. Akira's bouncing around between serious, weirdly tender, flirty, and something else, leaving Bakugo momentarily unsure how to react. jaw a bit tense, face warming despite himself, eyes jumping from the thief's eyes to lips to hair to cheek to eyes again. that stupid thumb going caress caress right below his eyelid isn't helping things either! half his head tempts a tilt and nuzzle, half jabs a proverbial heel in the ground out of pride.]
Dammit, you're too fucking slow. [saying that to Akira or himself? who knows! Bakugo abruptly leans forward and kisses Akira, a firm, warm touch with just the right amount of cant so they don't ram noses or click teeth.
that's one way out of embarrassing sappy stuff.]
1/2
no subject
[the way Akira immediately melts makes it clear that he has been thinking about this for far too long. too fucking slow indeed. . . there were probably a million other times during this conversation that he could have closed the distance between them to make good on the promise to mess around. but. . . he can't say he regrets putting it off, if it gave him the chance to learn more about his companion. his. . . friend]
[but now that lips have met, something snaps, and Akira returns that kiss with eager hunger as his hand slides from Bakugou's cheek to the back of his neck. he grins, muttering a quiet but amused-- sorry, sorry-- against the kiss. his bad!! he just got distracted. . .]
no subject
kissing him. it feels... good. completely unique. tracing his lips' contours, how his cupid's bow dips in the center, lower lip's plusher than his upper, and a sudden surge forward answers his own hunger. a hand on his nape earns a low groan as Bakugo presses into the kiss, tilting his head the other way to deepen it and change their angle. fine, he'll distract him anew!]
no subject
[Bakugou deepens the kiss, and Akira follows suit, mouth parting to invite his companion deeper. and in the same motion, he steps forward, free hand planted against his partner's chest to slowly push him backwards, until he bumps up against the cool tiles of the shower wall]
no subject
an open invitation taken and he steps forward, bringing their bodies flush together even as Akira guides him backwards. legs slide past each other, a few brushing steps intertwined, before his back hits the wall and one hand manages to grab the shower head along the way to twist it towards them. barely gets above Akira's shoulder blades now, but it's better than making out as the wet wall behind him grows colder in the steam.]
no subject
[. . . so Akira has considered what it might be like to touch, to kiss, to press himself up against someone else while enveloped in the warm steam of a hot shower. but honestly? every encounter he has had thus far while trapped in the Golden Peacock's walls has been way better than anything his curious-yet-inexperienced imagination could conjure up. and this? is no different]
[it's electric, the way their legs brush against one another as he shoves Bakugou back. it's so freakin' thrilling, the moment he feels the resistance of the shower wall, his palm laying flat against damp musces even as he moves forward to hook his ankle around Bakugou's, to keep them flush with as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. his lips curve into a pleased grin against that kiss before he dives right back into it, catching his companion's lower lip between his teeth in a sharp, playful nip]
[he mutters, voice low]
S'pose I'm not the one who'll be wearing tiles after all--
[don't push your luck, Akira!!]
no subject
Akira is one of his choices. he's wanted to for a while now, embarrassing as it is to silently acknowledge in his mind. yet there it is, slithering across his gray matter via the gentle brush of nude legs across his own. back to the wall, one leg hooking around the thief's calf and holding him close with a possessive angle. right as Akira snags his other leg just above is heel, locking them both together between hot water spray and textured tile wall. skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heat to heat. pressed together from head to toe in all the right places. teeth seize his lip and he snarls in "warning" between his own whites.]
Don't make me dump your ass on the ground. [and deliberately gives his leg, and Akira's by proxy, a little shiver, letting the other boy feel similar tiles under the sole of his foot. tile he'll be wearing from a different angle if he pushes it...]
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[with a slow exhale, Akira finally allows his hand to meander none-too-innocently across Bakugou's body again with renewed confidence. he searches for other scars this time, starting with the one on his companion's shoulder. . . before his fingers trace further down his arm, mapping out the lines of raised skin etched into biceps]
I'd challenge you to try, but-- [he is putting a pin on that for another day. for now. . . his lips finally trail away from Bakugou's to brush against the lines of his partner's jaw, scattering warm and wet kisses as he goes, pressing them feather-light down his neck] -- I have something else in mind for right now.
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unlike the one on his chest, the torn-edged puncture scar on Bakugo's shoulder doesn't elicit quite the same reaction. muscles in his shoulder's round tense slightly when Akira touches the scar, but a slight shudder ripples down his spine when he caresses over and finally leaves it. bicep hardens no reason other than showing off... though Akira will have to change arms if he intends to reach the jagged tears all over Bakugo's limb (his left shoulder has the puncture, but his right arm has all the seams and rips).]
But? [is all he gets out before Akira's mouth shuts him up with lips wandering down his jaw. a heady quick little gasp before Bakugo drops his head against the wall, eyes closing as the other boy begins messing with his neck. why the hell's it so damn sensitive when Akira touches it?!] Gonna... tell me... or let me guess...
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Think it might be. . . [another kiss against Bakugou's neck, this one long and lingering, sharp enough to leave a bright red splotch in its wake. that is on purpose; there is just something about Bakugou's beautifully marked-up body that has Akira wanting to add his own touches to the canvas] . . . way more fun to make you guess.
[lips continue to trail further down, this time across Bakugou's scarred shoulder. . . and there they stay, tracing the lines of raised skin much like his fingers had earlier]
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Dammit, you're gonna leave marks... [as if that's a problem, despite his grumbling voice, it's breathless and needy. he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for Akira's mouth wherever he wants to put it. fingers curl against the thief's hip and he grinds his shoulders against the wall in some weird effort to "escape" those touches he doesn't even want to stop.]
Think... I've got a... pretty fucking good idea. [especially as that wicked mouth begins to drop. his breath hitches again when Akira's lips find his shoulder, deliberately kissing and mouthing over his scar as Bakugo's shoulder muscles and bicep visibly flex from the rush of icy sensations.]
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I don't see you stopping me.
[so he must like it, judging by those breathless words, and the inviting way he gives Akira more access to his neck. good. because Akira is just barely getting started]
[the shoulder scar is a nice appetizer, and Akira likes the way touching and kissing it makes Bakugou react. even more than that. . . he likes the way that marred skin feels underneath his lips, rough and raw and fucking beautiful. he could stay here all day, alternating between paying that scar much-deserved attention and leaving more hickeys across the slope of Bakugou's neck. but no. there is more work to do]
[he presses one last kiss against that shoulder scar, before trailing the remaining kisses further down again, tracing the line of Bakugou's collarbone and. . . yes, leaving some more red marks along the way, each one pricking like a needle against Bakugou's skin. but he doesn't stop there; Akira's hands then come to rest at Bakugou's sides, mostly to keep him steady as one of those kisses finally dips low enough to trace the edges of the blow that nearly killed him]
[and, with a quiet mutter, breath washing hot against damp skin--]
Has anyone ever told you that these are beautiful?
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tougher skin makes up the scar tissue, a faintly-raised rim along the torn edges before sinking inward a bare amount the further towards the center Akira's lips go. pierced through muscle, skin, and bone, taking almost a month and several visits to the hospital with recovery girl's quirk to hasten his healing. Akira keeps messing with it orally and Bakugo's torn between the instinctive urge to shove his mouth away before his nerves set fire to his skin and the need to cling to both shower wall and the thief's hips to weather a surge of sensations.
mercifully, the guy opts to leave it and Bakugo sags against the wall with a husky breath, kicking a heel back to brace on the tiles. more marks bloom on his skin, bastard, and his head drops towards his other shoulder. one hand slides down to rest on Akira's hand as it trails his obliques, only barely realizing the guy was skirting dangerously close to the initial shore of his chest's burst wound. until his lips land there and it's like someone poked his nerves with a lighter. teeth clench, toes curl, a hissing breath, and he jolts under the feeling.] Wha-? ... why the hell... would someone say that?
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Why?
[another hum vibrates against warm skin. another kiss is pressed against that scar as Akira's hands finally glide down the edges of Bakugou's body, coming to rest at the sharp points of his hips]
. . . because it's true. What other reason would someone need?
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red eyes clench shut, his fingers tremble slightly as Akira works his way further towards the center. feels like fucking ice and fire simultaneously, nerves reporting a jumble of flummoxed sensations: numb, ticklish, pain, pleasure-]
Haa-ah! [the center of his injury is only slightly raised compared to the rest of the so-shallow crater, as it's the epicenter of the seam edgeshot sewed above his repaired sternum. but damn is it suddenly sensitive? and why does Akira think he's gonna talk while he's mouthing over the damn thing?!] Most... people don't find them attractive.
[scars in general. words rush from his mouth in a single breath, thanks to those vibrations tremoring from Akira's lips to his skin.]
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Screw "most people." I'm not "most people."
[they don't matter in the long run. they especially don't matter right now, when it's just the two of them, alone together in a steamy shower stall. for this moment and this moment only, Bakugou's scars are Akira's to admire. . . and he will more than make up for the wrong opinions of "most people."]
[. . . the next time he dips his head to admire that jagged wound, it is with his tongue rather than his lips, tracing the edges slowly and purposefully, and savoring the flavor of damp skin and water on his senses. and those hands, resting oh-so-innocently on Bakugou's hips. . .?]
[they dip lower and inward, fingers finally skimming to the insides of Bakugou's thighs, and then to the length in between. his touches are exploratory, with just enough pressure to elicit some pleasure]
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doesn't make handling the constant attention and flaring of his nerves easier as Akira continues to mess with the wound. no more lips, this time with tongue, and Bakugo jerks his head back, thudding against the tiles with a heated snarl of surprise. fuck, he was trying to be prepared for that, and it feels like a damn ice cube is outlining his scar's rims.
fingers dig into Akira's shoulders, clenching with a subtle quiver. push him away? fuck, he feels like he should, but as hard as he's gripping the other man's skin... Bakugo stiffens as fingers run the inside of his strong thighs, brushing over his member before exploring the length and tip. not hard or deliberate, but tentative and wandering, clashing with the sensations above. fuck, he's gonna steal his damn breath this way.]
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