御手杵 - O T E G I N E (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
passthrough) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-03-04 09:45 pm
passthrough) wrote in crescentview2023-03-04 09:45 pm
winter catch-all
🌸WHO: Otegine and various
🌸WHAT: Open prompts and closed starters for winter into endgame
🌸WHEN: From Winter 1 onwards
🌸WHERE: Various
🌸WARNINGS: nsfw is labeled!
Please hit up my discord, plurk, PMs or plotting if you'd like a closed starter!
🌸WHAT: Open prompts and closed starters for winter into endgame
🌸WHEN: From Winter 1 onwards
🌸WHERE: Various
🌸WARNINGS: nsfw is labeled!
Please hit up my discord, plurk, PMs or plotting if you'd like a closed starter!
no subject
Still, he can keep his hands on Otegine, brushing over his cheeks, through his hair, a constant contact because for some reason he feels light and full of warmth, like he’s swallowed sunshine. Maybe it wasn’t the ideal, maybe it’s not the solemn vow the goddess will approve of, but it’s the first time Owen has thought about a future beyond power.
He’s not just following his whims. Otegine is someone he wants and he will continue to want, and… some day he’ll marry him. He’ll be the best damned bride this island has ever seen.]
no subject
He wants their lips to be back together, wants to bask in this warm and wonderful and overwhelming emotion. But knowing Owen had just died keeps his touches slow and deep, almost reverent in how carefully he drags his touch to settle over the hollow that no longer held a beating heart, the heat of his skin settling into the rise and fall of breath that showed Owen was, in fact, still alive.
He tugs at Owen's arm at the same time that Otegine starts to slip himself back up to the couch, a silent gesture for Owen to turn even as the hand against his chest presses gently to lay him down, trying to settle the wizard against the arm of the couch.]
May I do something for you?
no subject
He settles against the arm of the couch, snatching an extra pillow to support him so he can watch what Otegine is doing. He nods, the best “yes” he can give right now, and keeps his eyes on the touken.]
Nsfw from here, tagging for the flatview
[It's said with a nervous grin as he guides the wizard's thighs to part, settling himself between Owen's legs before leaning overtop him.
Dark eyes soften as he gazes down with a careful touch to Owen's jawline.]
Maybe I couldn't stop what she did. But... I want to remind you you're here now. I don't want to take it for granted.
[To wake up from the darkness, whether by his own dream or what he remembered from Owen's memory... it was always jarring. Not quite restful peace, not quite with relief. But to ground himself after a nightmare with a cold breeze, with tactile and sound and taste, always helped reorient him.
Maybe he could try to do the same for Owen.
It's a simple start, the Touken carefully undoing enough buttons of Owen's shirt so that he can lower his mouth to trace the flesh of his neck and collarbone. As his mouth works, his hands trace - a careful mapping of the body underneath him, first following the length of Owen's arms to his fingers, then the rise of his chest down the stretch of muscle to the line of his hips. It's a slow and careful pace, like the stoking of the fire, prodding and patient.
All the while, he tries to pay attention to Owen's breath, to how his body shifts. He has no voice to guide him or boss him around for now... but he knows Owen isn't exactly the patient sort.
He'll speak up again only when his hand starts to drift towards the pit of Owen's hips, thumb running the length of the seam and what sits underneath. His voice is cautious against Owen's neck.]
...Do you want my mouth? [His press drags against the seaming.] Here?
no subject
At least Otegine is spared from listening to him gloat, because he really could get used to being treated like something precious. Even though everything is so gentle and careful, it’s all because of the hold Owen has on him. A power nobody else has, because he’s the only person Otegine will ever cherish like this. Owen is the only one who will get to experience this, who will feel his hands and lips. It’s a bit strange to just lay here, but he enjoys being serviced. The only sign that he is is the thickening of his cock, no racing pulse or heart to skip a beat.
He runs a hand through Otegine’s hair, a smirk on his face as he nods. Please. He wants Otegine to pleasure him as best as he can.]
Can't believe im using notegine icons seriously
You sure?
[His touch withdraws, just long enough to bring his hand to his own mouth and exhale hotly against the skin. With the extra warmth, the butt of his palm takes over for his thumb, kneading into the swell building up under the fabric of his pants.
How was it that he'd been before, exactly, that time Owen reacted so well towards him that night at the hot springs... he has to think about it a little longer than his counterpart, and the words don't hold quite the sadistic bite. But he remembers the sensation of it, the power that held his body up with confidence. He might not be an unshakable god... but he still was a Touken Danshi. He could hold his own, even with the powerful man who he was growing to cherish so deeply.
So his own smile grows a little cocky, just as it had after their first kiss, a slight cock of his head to the side.]
Show me?
Tell me with your body, however you need to. Tell me I'm yours.
[And with that, he leans in to lock their lips back together, a far more passionate attempt than his previously chaste kiss, letting his hand continue its work to make sure Owen would be perfectly ready and waiting for his mouth to take over.]
owen jumpscare
He’d be an idiot to turn down Otegine servicing him. It doesn’t make it less frustrating that he can’t talk, that he can’t goad or encourage him, but he can speak with his body as best as he can.
He meets the kiss eagerly, rocking up into Otegine’s touch. Maybe it’s his emotions still running high, or his body is just more sensitive after reconstructing itself, or it’s simply the fact that it’s Otegine and any moment with him would be blissful, but he’s already painfully hard. He rocks against Otegine’s hand, reaching between them to work at the button on his pants. It’s a bit difficult because he doesn’t want to stop kissing him, but he’s… eager. Very eager, but some concessions might have to be made.]
gasps gently... henlo
He breaks their liplock only when he finally needs air, his smile almost mischievous as his fingers meet Owen's at the clasp of his pants - not to stop, but to help the process.]
Easy, easy... you're really ready for me, huh. [As soon as there's room past the zipper, Otegine's hand slips straight back to work, fully cupping Owen's erection through what little fabric remains of his underwear. He should probably just start with his mouth, given how swollen Owen already feels against his fingers... but Owen liked when he pushed a little bit, didn't he?
Maybe he could make him squirm a little. Let him ride in the pleasure enough to earn a sulk or two.
Heat sinks into his own hips as he slowly pumps Owen through the fabric, a teasing pace just meant to keep him alert. His free hand slips down to pop two more buttons loose of Owen's shirt, the warmth of his fingers finding the cold peak of his nipple to run between his thumb and forefinger in a similar rhythm.
With a flexing tension of his wrist, the yari tugs just a little tighter against the tip of Owen's cock through the thin fabric, at the same time taking up the sensitive nub of his chest with a careful but abrupt yank between his knuckles. A sudden, sharp pang from both chest and groin, before letting both of them fall right back into a slower grinding rhythm. It's an action that's repeated, a little harder each time, burying his face into Owen's neck to take skin between his teeth and start to leave a mark, then another.
How long can he go until Owen starts to writhe?]