#thanks so much for placing an ask!

[writingsofwesteros]

Dude I usually hate the idea of Alicent and Daemon but you've changed my opinion on them-though I still 10000% believe she is a repressed lesbian.

Anyways, I can't get this idea out of my head.

So an AU of the Alicent and Daemon you have up on your blog. So it went as it did, the two having an affair, Aemond being born and disguised as Viserys' kid BUTTTTT

Say Rhaenyra or someone (rhae fits better thought) found them while they were having hot sex in the library a little while after Aemond is born. Daemon and Alicent have no clue she even knows and in a fit of jealousy, of who? Idk because Rhaenyra highkey wants them both, she tells Viserys.

Viserys' favoritism comes out to play and he questions his brother. Usually, Daemon is a good liar and would be able to fool his brother but he can't keep the smug gleam out of his eyes as he lies to the King. So what does Viserys do? Banish his ass, no surprise.

He keeps rumors from spreading about the true reason Daemon was exiled and made sure not a soul besides himself and Rhaenyra knew about his wife's infidelity. The lovers have heartbreaking goodbye sex, full of tearful love confessions and slow thrusts to somehow prolong the inevitable, and just like that, they don't see one another for 10 years.

Now here we are, Laena's funeral. Alicent has grown into a beautiful woman, something her husband cannot appreciate. She came to the funeral as a courtesy, though she couldn't give two fucks about the woman who married her lover. But when she sees Daemon, she goes full stalker mode, her thighs clenching under her dress at the familiar head of Targaryen white hair she oh so missed.

And Daemon? WOOO WEE-That man hasn't seen her in ten years and my my has she grown even more beautiful (when he last saw her she still looked like emily carey and now she looks like olivia cooke). And yes, he had Laena for release but she was nothing compared to her. Nothing could even slightly compare to Alicent's soft whimpers and tight cunt.

After the funeral, they end up fucking on the beach for hours on end, frenzied snaps of hips and teeth scraping desperately against each other's as they kiss. But of course, all good things come to an end and they reluctantly stop fucking like bunnies when Aemond claims Vhagar and starts riding around.

So Alicent's mom mode kicks in and she's fucking sprinting back, Daemon trailing after her like a lost puppy and when they finally arrive, Alicent immediately ignores everyone and rushes to her boy.

Daemon can't keep the smirk off his face as he looks at Otto, his eyes gleeful as he told him without speaking just how much he recked his daughter. Of course, he's worried for his son but holds himself back, not wanting to anger Viserys in order to snake his way back to the Red Keep to be with his Queen once again.

Now when Alicent snaps, he's feeling a lot of things. Worry, for his Queen and his maimed son. Rage, how dare Rhaenyra's bastard son (I love luke I hate saying this but yk) hurt his boy and his own daughters helped?? And lastly, he's unashamed to say, he's fucking turned on. Yes, his (secret) son is maimed and bleeding and Alicent had just drawn Rhaenyra's blood, though he couldn't give a shit about that, something about seeing the well-kept, proper, and religious Queen Alicent, snap, stirred something in his breeches.

So later that night, he helps comfort his son with Alicent, and obviously, Aemond is smart and knows more than he should and kinda blankly stares at them as they leave together, but he's secretly happy because ayee fatherly affection. And then when Daemon leads Alicent to his temporary chambers in Driftmark, he comforts her and slowly fucks her worries and grief away till the sun rises.

Anyways, my mind ran wild but AHHHHHHHH-

THIS IS AMAZING!!!!! So glad I've found another Daemon x Alicent enjoyer...I don't even know how it came to be for me ooopsie.

This is brilliant; I can't even add anything to it. I'm sure I've got a request for something with Driftmark so I'll add things from you in there.

Alicent was hot when she lost control thank you very much ;) No wonder her hair was all lose ;)

[meanbossart]

You mentioned Drow having been raised by the drow & their interesting culture about sex. Due to Lolth/that culture being different from ours, does that mean he associates bottoming with social dominance?

Like not saying he doesn't get the surface attitude (if it exists, idk about Faerun's gender roles) is way different.

I've just honestly been thinking about this off and on for like a week now and had to ask. Your work gives the best brain worms. :)

First of all, getting this ask felt like I won something.

But ALAS, he does not. He left the Underdark quite young and before ever becoming sexually active, so, while he's aware of that particular outlook he does not abide by it - In fact, his resentment toward drow is so intense that he actively thinks the opposite out of spite.

But rather than it having anything to do with gender, to him bottoming is a submissive action in the same way that victim and perpetrator are clearly distinguishable in a stabbing based on who's holding the knife. (This is DU drow's brain right here, not mine, leave the police out of this).

And here's the thing - he wants to feel submissive in the bedroom, both because he enjoys it and in part due to his own sexual hangups. Violence, sex, and love are all overlapping concepts in his mind that he has a difficult time distinguishing from each other, and following the severing of ties with Bhaal those feelings do not go away.

One way he finds to deal with that is by lending the other party control, and bottoming just so happens to be a way he finds to do that; It's definitely more akin to a placebo effect, but hey, it works for him. Astarion also enjoys the arrangement so it's all well and good.

But to tie it back: as I'm pretty sure I've said before, he does sometimes play up the "Oh I'm a drow bottoming, so I guess I'm the woman" thing. He does it as a joke. He finds it funny. He tells you to get on with it because there's 15 other jaluks outside waiting for a turn. He grabs you by the back of the neck and demands you screw more kids into him so he can kill them at lolth's altar (cue laughter). He moans exaggeratedly and with a feminine cadence - but the biggest joke of all is that, by doing this, he's finding a way to be dominant in the bedroom in which he's comfortable with, and without it having anything with who is doing the stabbing.

Thank you for the ask, I hope you enjoy my fantasy 5D sex chess.

Anyway here's wonderwall

[madaqueue]

THE SUN SHINES ON YESTERDAY’S NEW-FALLEN SNOW

PRESS SNOWFLAKES IN A BOOK LIKE FLOWERS — a milestone event

status: closed!

hi friends! i recently hit a milestone and to celebrate, i’ll be hosting a little event!

to thank all of you for being here with me, i’ll be writing short drabbles (250-500 words) for a character of your choice with a genre and prompt below! to participate, just send me an ask with the following information:

characters: anyone from jjk

my most-written for are choso, geto, gojo, and sukuna, but for this i’m writing everyone - if for some reason i’m unable to, i’ll respond to your message and let you pick another! only exceptions are the disaster curses/mahito and mei mei (sorry girlie)

readers: include pronouns and gender (f/fem, gn, or m/masc)

genres & prompts:

ice on the window: fluff

catching snowflakes, meeting family, warm drinks, baking cookies, ice skating + choose your own

a crescent moon: smut

warm skin, trapped in a snowstorm, icy hands, cozy mornings, sharing blankets + choose your own

a gold and silver day: matchmaking

i will assign you a fav and date! if you choose this, it’ll only be fluff! send me 3+ things you love and 3+ things you loathe, gender preference for your pairing, and anything else you want me to know

rules:

this event is intended to celebrate my amazing and lovely followers, so please be following me lol :3

off anon + an age in bio/pinned (18+)

see my writing rules for more on what i do and don’t write if making your own request!

note:

if you would prefer i not publish your ask to keep it more anonymous, add ‘please don’t publish’ to your request and i won’t - i’ll just write your request and add it to the masterlist :)

examples:

“hey beautiful hot and sexy quinn, gimme some f!reader (she/her) x gojo and ‘icy hands’ (i just know that freak has poor circulation)”

“hi there! for the event, could you write choso fluff with a gn!reader (they/them) using my own prompt of ___? also, could you please not publish this ask? thank you <3”

“hi quinn! i’m here for matchmaking :3 i would like to be paired with one of the boys, m!reader with he/him prns, and 3 things i like are ___ oh and i haaaaaate ___, love you :3”

MASTERLIST

to be added...

[zu-is-here]

New headcannon! In relation to this. If we took that as being something that could have happened with the same Cross and Dream from darkcream, my headcannon iss.

Cross never actually read Dream this letter, perhaps tried to throw it out, but Dream saved it. He later comes to realise it might have been some sort of love confession, based on context of what happens soon afterwards. But he still doesn't actually know what it actually says.

Only then years later, handing the letter back to Cross, to ask him to read it to him on there wedding night.

Sickly sweet, but wanted to share something none angst related

Too sweet to resist ♡

[berlingotesque]

*a wild gensokiyo appears*

I DID IT!!!

I'M READY TO ASK YOUR BOI

>:3 ✨✨

(alternative of me if I didn't throw the Miku figure at you)

Hope he'll say yes because I'm good at making sandwich and playing Bendy musics on the piano for his rituals anyways

*run away*

If I had a nickel for every time I organized a wedding on my account, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[chasedeys]

Hi do you have a favorite moment between Joe and Ja’Marr ?? Also how would you describe their relationship I’m new to this fandom and they are just so close and adorable

hi there!! thank you sm for coming by and sending this ask bc now there's like 2k+ words under the cut 😭 i feel like i should apologize profusely for the unchecked word vomit oh my god

to start off, like would you believe me if i said i’ve been a fan of the bengals for like a month :')) started ts during the week leading up to the first regular season game when jamarrs contract literally gripped me with the drama of it all. so for all my word vomit below feel free to fact check me ahaha

you asked me for a favorite moment for joemarr and i start describing their entire life together i am so very sorry, but:

on the top of my head literally just two weeks ago. this 63 yarder jamarr and joe made that led to an mildly feral celly where they just. didn’t know how to act right and got made fun of for not doing a cool celly?? this insane anon ask i sent before i caved and made a sideblog was actually just my word vomit over it 😭. And also last weeks celly, a whole lot softer and more tender with jamarr skipping then walking straight towards joe who held his arms out for him? thats crazyyyy he was expected! he was welcomed!! he was loved!!! the way one of the fired up coach just let joemarr have their intimate little moment before slapping jamarrs shoulders in joy is also crazy to me 😵‍💫 and just this screenshot of that celly where they’re just wrapped around each other right in front of their sidelines. the fuck. watched that shit sick to my stomachhhh i had enoughhhh.

this edit with the compilation of their post-tds pinky shakes oh my goddd. just every time they do pinky shakes!! who does that!!!! the softest possible way they can make a handshake (since college my god) in a status quo where you make the most elaborate handshakes to look cool and spread joy and burn up adrenaline but these two chose to do a quick twist of their pinky fingers (the symbolism of it alllll how dare theyy) and pressing knuckles together for however long they want to. the roty award where they did their pinky shake is one of my favorites huhu

the lakers date…..the way i had no idea sam and dj reader were with them on this date until i see a full vid of lebron meeting them 😭 and the lore goes crazyyy for this whole thing bc apparently joe was having the shittiest week in arizona and jamarr made an obscure ig story that he arrived in az before deleting it (like whyyyy would he do that) and then boom. they’re in the lakers game in lsu/lakers colors. and jamarr did that arms around shoulder thing that blows my mind because what the fuck is wrong with him why would he do that in front of lebron james and anthony davis and like national tv idk. joe also clapped (??? for whatever reason this fucking dork my godd) his hands right in front of jamarrs face when jamarr was being introduced to the stadium.

THE WEIRD CLOTHES PAIRING THING IS INSANE TO ME TOO. they do it in such subtle ways that you just think its a coincidence and you're delusional and it probably is but!! but??? they went to the game wearing yellow and purple (color coordinating lakers colors!! if i were on a date i would also do that cringy shit!!) that is also coincidentally lsu colors! another theory is they each chose to wear lakers colors without the other knowing of which this is just another case of soulmatism. the matching shoes during week 3! the sort of matching color schemes for their away game airport fits! last week both wearing rick owens apparently idk?? no idea if they've done this before this season btw i just got here lol. this is reaching ofc but very fun to think of!

jamarr being batshit crazy with his words abt joe. 'he's like a god to me' 'trying playing without my favorite quarterback' 'i told him dont scare me like that again. he knows how to slide he's just hard headed' 'im here for the future, for him. i want you to be here for the future' (this was abt joe playing through an injury :)) etc etc. something about 'just keep winning as many championships together' or like 'me and him come as package' or something fairy tale ish like that idk man he's crazy i could make something up only to be bamboozled because he has in fact said shit like it before. and like his refusal to consider anyone but joe for the no. 1 qb hhh. somebody needs to put him in an mri and study his brain when shown a picture of joe burrow bc like?? the way jake had to prove himself before jamarr even followed him on ig is ??? pls be normal jamarr i beg of u (he's perfect the way he is).

while jamarrs insane with his words, joes insane with his actions!! the lsu sec championship ball he gave to jamarr. that little look like ‘hey you want it? okay its rightfully yours' mkayy crazy ass!!! jamarrs lsu championship game worn jersey joe asked for and worn for their first game back in nola. just what the fuck went through joes mind that led to this. their dads (both named jimmy both close since lsu too, cute!) were asked about their fav joe game day fit they said the jamarrs lsu jersey 😃! in laws approving your partner of choice etc. this is jimmy chases interview regarding joemarr too btw haha. anyway back to joe being insane—the demented way joe runs to jamarr and hops around him and slams his helmet to his when jamarr makes plays. and like again this is speculation as in no citation sorry but jamarrs reason for going to cincy is definitely in part because of joe?? joe being the one to text him pack your bags you’re going to cincy is crazyyy. firmly believe joe talked him up and asked for him! when they last parted before joe went to cincy did they make a pact that they would play in a team together again? did jamarr reach out when joes 2020 season ending injurys news reached him? did he watch him go down that first time?

also during their lsu days they interviewed the wr core and they were asked abt who joe likes best (stupid ass question in my opinion btw. why would they ask that), it was so....sooooo......like jamarr was so shy and unsure!! he's like 'is it..me?' and terrace going 'he does like throwing to jamarr most' and then jamarr bursting into embarrassed laughter like okay??? okay 😭😭 fine okay be cute or whatever. in my mind back then jamarr was a whole lot more unsure of his presence in joes life because hes super young, his qb is literally 3 years older, its their first year playing together etc but i think being joe being upfront on asking jamarr to play with him in cincy (again speculation on my part no idea if this is true ha) just cements the little gremlin in his head that believes he has to be crazy about joe

their 2021 preseason jamarrs drops were apparently disgusting enough for people to shit on his entire life idk and crucify the bengals for drafting another wr but joe was so firm on his belief in jamarr! that's devotion babyyyy his clap back in the first post game presser was very much what were u saying abt the loml coded love that for them

last feb probowl dramaaa rumors of jamarr moving to houston bc he chirped at cj stroud that he knew cj wanted to play with him or smtg so he had to post this very emotional very sincere tweet and speak abt it in an interview 😭😭 just head empty no thoughts mouth racing! joe probably teased the ever living shit out of him 'so you’re moving to houston without telling me :( i had to find out through twitter :(('

just teasing each other in numerous occasions over each others speed??? that mic'ed up moment when joe teased jamarr over being slow! yelling out his name so many times just to say that he was a little slow and jamarr shooting back instantly with an incredulous ‘be serious. be serious.’ vs jamarr nagging joe over being slow ass hell during his 20 (?) yard rushing attempt and joe defending himself in the whiniest voice i have ever heard from him saying he had to wait for ted to block before him (ted then going what did i do? ted I’m sorry you had to be dragged into their weird mating dance banter) and also this gem of a jamarr tweet (x)

speaking of jamarrs twitter, 17yo him’s curiouscat answers that insanely aligns with joe is nothing short of crazy. they have not met or heard of each other then i don't think. but according to it he likes them older, smart, doesn't mind if they're taller, but he doesn't fw long distance so he flew his ass to ohio 😮‍💨. (also whooo be sending these asks high schoolers dear lordd 😭). the soulmatism between them is kinda crazy like joe being well over 3yrs his senior yet still they had a moment chance to play together during jamarrs freshie/sopho (?) year in college because joe chooses to transfer to lsu, and coach o taking a chance on him despite not playing for how many long, winning a championship (!!) together for that one year that they could play together, and saying fuck that only one year bullshit before flying jamarrs ass right to cincy so they could play 4 and counting more years together.

jamarr talking abt where it apparently clicked for joe and jamarr that joe can throw to jamarr and jamarr would be right there to catch it haha. like he didn't give a shit if people thought it was joes big life changing moment hes just insisting that that was when he and joe really clicked!

literally my favorite mic'ed up moment between them. the teasing! the nagging! 'you see the big blue thing' 'don't do me that' 'that's the endzone' then the laugh!!!! ‘he’s gonna get mad at me when i tell him this shit' then gesturing joe over like hes a cat my god jamarr 'you couldnt overthrow me?' a very affronted 'my guy you were wide open' aughuhghuhhguu joy love laughter etc. (side note can't help myself sorry pretty sure the reason joe teased him about the endzone is bc jamarr could’ve gone for it but got tackled bc he was kinda slow to start sprinting and when he did he just sat there legs out shoulders dropped looking disappointed but cute as all hell i love him sm)

sooo many other moments because theyve literally been in each others lives for over five years!!!! recently joe saying jamarr playing is fun to watch 😵‍💫, jamarr saying numerous times that joes a tough mfer but also hard-headed and how he's also hard-headed but at least he listens (my guy....reflect again), that article of jamarr knocking on doors for a house near joe that he denied i think but he also said that he kept his stuff in joes house before he got his own, that jamarr gq shoot where he went insane and lied (or did he?) about buying joe clothes that just led to the ridiculous clothes saga that is still unsolved to this day and that tb and tee very obviously teased him over and somehow the socmed team clowned him on too 😭

etc etc stop me please

AND ANYWAYSSS MOVING ON:

how i would describe their relationship is ride or die with incredibly similar way of living by which i mean they live and breathe a sport they’re so talented in and they play to win and beat themselves up for doing bad in but also with the awkwardness of knowing they’re two vastly different people with different ways of seeing things and handling things but also even with that steadfast difference of being they also believe in each other in a truly outrageous way that it translates to them saying and being insane about each other (hence the list above) with little to no shame. (i hope this makes sense because im not reading all that over again wow)

like they’re so complicated to me!! by all means i don’t actually know these two or what they’re really like, but surface level they’re so different! their temperament is literally 180, joes cool and steady persona, incapable of being ruffled, closed off, moments of silliness he brings out only in certain situations, smart little quips he gives out at times like he can’t help himself vs exuberant open extroverted blustering to hide his shyness runs his mouth always down to fight jamarr chase. they couldn’t be more different! so how can they read each other so well? how can they run routes and plays with minute changes whilst running from men trying to take them down between one heartbeat to the next? how is it that jamarr is so down bad for this man that he can just say the shit he does about him? how much trust does joe have in this man that he shuts down every bad shit anybody tries to tell him or coax him to say? something about /always/ choosing the other despite everything is always a thing that attracts me to a ship.

also after that infamous kc game shove, i definitely think they had a very tough heart to heart where jamarr maybe spills his full feelings over the contract and how he hasn’t been getting the ball to actually make big plays and how his worth as a wr1 is being brought to question and joe probably spills on his own feelings on how jamarr held out so long and had last minute (?) changes of playing that week one ramps up joes own anxiety and hang ups like i definitely feel like he had some unchecked anxiety over playing with his wrist that first game that jamarr probably said something incredibly insane yet uplifting about in response. the next game its like they mended some unseen frayed stitch of their connection! first drive banger of a 41 yarder td for jamarr, two tuddys for the game in fact lol!! joe gets him his deep ball, then the insane way joe rushed at him after his 63 yarder in the next game, its like that first touchdown against minnesota again. i just wish the very best for them, to keep making these insane passes and insane runs they've been making since lsu.

anyway i feel like a lot of my rambling is for jamarr sorry 😭 he’s like a drug to me such an interesting person i base my thoughts around him. I feel obliged to say i wrote my first ever fic and its them lmao and i link this just as a fair warning to everyone that i very obviously write and ramble in the tags like im in love with jamarr, definitely with some bias, and I’m learning how not to be ashamed of that !

also nobody asked but scrolling through the hell that is my photo gallery i just have to share my favorite tee photo which is coincidentally the mock photoshoot the bengals socmed team made them do to clown jamarrs gq shoot ahaha

hearts ❤️ thank u for reading all the way through :"))

[smoosie]

Your 3 part series of The South Downs Cottage are incredible!! I keep coming back to look at them, and my mind keeps spinning with all possible outcomes. It would be amazing if you were planning on part 4… is there still hope somewhere?? For the part 4, for THEM??? It’s devastating and breathtaking at the same time. Gorgeous work!

There you go !

nah jk

or am I ?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

These FFS inner demons are very “disco elysium skills” reminiscent. I NEED to meet that cast! Also freaking awesome work to you and your buddy :]

May it be an open secret that one of my inspirations was Disco Elysium. I think they could party together.

[turrondeluxe]

How do you feel about winning the competition

[happyheidi]

Hi hi! I really really love your blog. It always gives me such good vibes and makes me feel more grounded and connected to what matters; nature and the tangible world. So even though it’s a digital blog it has a positive opposite impact 😉❤️

I was also wondering, I’m currently designing my dream home and you’ve always posted really beautiful cottage-core-home stuff on this blog (such as tableware and decor etc). Do you have a tag for this so I can easier scroll back through your blog? And if you have more posts about this I would love that of course as well! 🥰

This might be the biggest compliment I’ve ever gotten when it comes to my blog and it’s “impact” on someone/or just in general. That you feel more grounded & connected to nature through my online site, that’s just���wow, thank you !! And what a beautiful way to put it as well! Sorry I didn’t answer this until now I’ve just wanted to look at the message and try to give a response that can match the comment (which is impossible 🥰🫶) so thank you !

Here’s a some of my fav pathway pics from my walk in the woods the other day <3

And ohh I’m so happy for you about the dream home !! 🏡 the only tag I can think of that fits is interior and tho i tend to use it lightly, if u scroll through u might just get some inspo. I hope so at least! Also, I’m super curious as to what kind of interior/style ur into and what you’ve done so far so pls feel free to dm me some pics (I won’t share) 😃🌱

𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 💛 ~ 𝗁𝗎𝗀 𝖺 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾! 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾! 🌳

[faragonart]

Hey um... thank you for doing so much grief work for Httyd2 back in 2014/15. I imagine it came from an offline personal place, which I couldn't relate to at the time, yet it was absolutely flooding everyone's dash. I have come to appreciate it over the years and realize more and more how important it was.

It's honestly really nice to hear that, friend. I was going through a lot of loss at the time, and having HTTYD2 as my muse, I vented my grief by expressing it through Hiccup's own.

I had worried I had made a lot of the fandom uncomfortable with the vent art I had been making... It's unfortunately the main reason why I left, so hearing this really does bring peace of mind, and I sincerely appreciate this message. I hope it helped other people relate and not feel so alone in their feelings <3

[bittybeanie]

oh boy! time to post a new fic! I can't believe it's been *checks calendar* ....oh. uh. oops. ignore that! it's the fourth and final installment of (this) aspec reigen series, complete with a lite™ version of a couple different kinks and finally getting to touch the peen! this one's real long, folks, clocking in at about 9,500 words, so you might wanna get a nice beverage and settle in.

content notes: thigh riding, themes of consent, drunk almost sex, a discussion about the drunk almost sex in the following scene, praise kink, a very loose (literally) definition of bondage, and so so many pet names. minors please don't interact!

also on ao3!

It takes more than a couple tries for you to get settled on the bed. You’re too close, then too far, and Reigen can’t get comfy, and your hand keeps sliding out from under you, and he can’t decide how he wants your leg angled, and there’s too many clothes, then all at once so few clothes that it feels like too much at once and you hastily agree to put your shirts back on, not wanting to break the already fragile layer of quiet hope.

Finally, finally, everything is perfect.

Awkward, stilted, and a little tense, and you’re not sure how long your leg will let you keep it just barely raised like this before it cramps up, but he’s here, embarrassed but steadfast, breath coming out in shivery gasps, hovering over your thigh, one hair fisted in the back of your hair. If he tips over, there’s no way you’re not going with.

Perfect.

His thighs shake as he holds himself up, deciding which direction he wants to move. You reach for the small of his back to steady him. "Does this count as keeping my hands out of the way?" He nods, so you test the waters by sliding your other hand up his thigh.

"As long you don’t- just no direct touching. Close to is fine, just not… well." He moves a hand back and forth across where he’s hovering over your thigh.

“Keep off the goods. Gotcha."

"The goods? Awful. You're awful, I swear."

You slide your hand up, just barely skimming your fingernails over his hip when you catch the hem of his shirt, and his cock twitches in his boxers.

"The goods don't seem to agree."

"Oi." Despite his protests, the laughter loosens him, and he relaxes enough to lean back into your knee. “Fine, fine, just stop saying goods.”

“Alright.” He raises an eyebrow. You lift both hands in surrender. “I promise! I will never again use ‘the goods’ to refer to your perfect, gorgeous, suckable-”

“I get it! I get it.” He grabs onto your shoulder - maybe in an effort to distract you, or maybe just to keep his balance - as he shifts closer. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his ears. “Here, actually, can you-? Hm.” He presses a hand against the inside of your other leg, thumb digging in as he gives a shove. He slides a knee into the newly free space between your legs, leaning forward to get a better angle. Your hands settle back on his waist.

“Better?”

“Much.” He lets out a little hum as he pushes his hips forward, and you have to stamp down a whimper at the feeling, his dick heavy and warm even through fabric.

“Didn’t mean to just push like that, though. Sorry.”

“S’okay. I’ll survive a little manhandling, as a treat.” You hit the last “t” sound with a click of your tongue, and he falls into your neck with a laugh. You trace patterns on his hips as he moves, tracking the motion as you press your fingers into his skin. “God, how do you get your hips to move that smooth? It’s sorta mesmerizing.”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just- I wasn’t thinking about it. S’just what f- ha, feels good.” His breath fans out across your collarbone, warm and fast.

“Yeah? You like using my thigh, baby? No thoughts other than what feels good? Your own personal toy to get yourself off against?”

“Oi.” His hips stutter once before he falls back into a slower rhythm. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he pulls you closer.

“Too much?”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

You can’t help but laugh, a light chuckle coming out in a breath against his hair. “I know, ‘Taka, I know.” You slide your hands under his shirt, over his stomach and up to his collarbone. “But would it really be so bad to belong to you?”

“I- fuck.” There’s a moment of worry when he shoves you away, but then he’s scrambling for the hem of his shirt and pulling.

“Are you sure?” It’s a formality, uttered even as you’re already reaching to help slide the fabric over his elbows, but it’s one you can’t even imagine going without.

“Very.” He lifts himself off of you to push his boxers down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he shimmies them all the way off. The mattress shifts and pitches him over, and you hurry to grab his arm.

He crawls back over to straddle your thigh, the tip of his cock tapping lightly against your side before he leans back onto his ankles.

“Do I need to get-?” You chuck his shirt into infinity and gesture vaguely to the bedside drawer. He’s technically never told you that he started keeping lube in there, but he hasn’t made much effort to keep the secret either.

He shakes his head. “I’m close. Won’t matter.”

He tries to go back to rutting against you, anchoring his hands on your waist to tilt his hips this way and that, but something about the new angle is off, and he can’t get any good contact.

“Oh no, now horrible, your dick is just so hard it won’t stay down on its own.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he scoots to sit closer, flush making its way from his ears to the edges of his cheeks.

“That gorgeous curve probably isn’t helping, either. In this case, anyway. Be an absolute treat to have inside me, though.” You press your thumbs in just above his knees, encouraging him to spread his legs more, and he jumps with a squeak, hands flying to grab yours. “Sorry, sorry, di-”

“No, it’s-” He pulls your hands together, just in front of his stomach, and the tip of his cock brushes against you. For a moment, you think he’s going to pull down, but he guides your hands back to his hips, pressing them into his skin as he rolls his hips. “Here.”

He gives up and puts his hand flat over his dick, pinning it down against your leg. He lifts himself to adjust the angle, just his tip dragging along your skin until he bumps into your hip, precum rolling out in a thin line over your thigh. When he pulls back, he grinds down insistently, coating his length and covering what isn’t already marked of your thigh so he can slide more easily. After a few impatient jolts of his hips, he settles back into a rhythm, smooth and fluid, and lets up on the pressure of his hand. He slings his other arm over your shoulder to pull you closer, and he falls forward to bury his face in your neck, whining into your collarbone.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was close, because it only takes a few drags of his cock against you for him to seize up, body tensing before going boneless, cum rolling over his hand and onto your hip as he slumps against you in a mess of pants and sighs. You slide your hands up his back to support his full weight, pressing kisses to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Just… gimme a second, I can cl- get you- god, my legs.” He rolls off of you with none of his usual grace, limbs falling everywhere at once, lightly smacking your arm as he goes limp.

You laugh and push his hair back from his face. You don’t bother to untangle your legs from his, accepting your fate of needing a shower later in exchange for getting to lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Eh, let it dry.”

“I’m starting to think you like it more than tolerate it.”

“If you haven’t gotten the hint by now that I want you to absolutely cov-”

He gives you a shove, rolling his hand so there’s no real force behind it, but you seize the chance to topple with a dramatic moan, one hand falling theatrically across your forehead as your eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, stop it.” He crawls over and props himself up on his elbows. You can feel his breath fanning over your collarbone, stilted like he’s trying not to laugh. You crack one eye open, breaking into giggles when you see his forced serious expression, eyebrows pinched together and one cheek sucked into his mouth to keep the smile off his face. He breaks at your laughter, breathing out through his nose and pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Oh, you could take me anywhere, handsome.” You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, and he rolls onto his back with an exasperated groan. You laugh again and sit up, pulling a blanket over him so you can settle in without accidentally brushing somewhere he’d rather you didn’t.

“Hey, Arataka?”

“I love you, too.”

“That, too.” You chuckle. “But I have a real question this time.”

“Oh.” He turns his head. “Sure.”

“After you… when you took my hands earlier, were you…?” The fleeting moment of contact between him and your hands floats through your mind. You can’t help but wonder what he was thinking in the moment he hesitated, but it feels weirdly invasive to ask so bluntly. “Sorry, never mind, this is a weird line of thought.”

You lay down beside him, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as his thumb smooths up your wrist.

“Do you mean…” He takes a steadying breath, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “Do you mean after the clothes came off?”

You nod. For a moment, he stills, not even breathing.

“I was… I wanted so badly to let you touch me. I thought if I didn’t have to say it, if I could just… imply, then I could get around it, but,” he sighs heavily, and he sounds tired when he continues, “I panicked.”

You’re both quiet, long enough that you startle even yourself when you finally break the silence.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“...Panicking?”

“No, angel. Implying.” He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “Maybe you just have to imply for a little longer.”

“I’m not following.”

“What if you left your hand on top of mine? That way it’s like- it’s the same as when you do it, but it sort of, hm, bridges the gap? All the sexy, none of the surprise.”

For a long moment, you’re not sure if he’s quiet because he’s thinking or because he’s falling asleep.

He hums, shoulder rolling under your head, and he pulls you tighter against his side.

+

"Okay." You shift nervously, tucking your foot underneath yourself, then deciding against it and unfolding your legs. "Walk me through the zones again."

"I'm not a city planning map." He rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand. You’re not sure which one of you the gesture is supposed to comfort.

You shift back onto your knees.

"Here up, anything goes." He points at the middle of his chest. "But try to stay- so more like, well, from maybe..." He gestures to his collarbone and wags his finger up and down. "Here to here, really."

When he looks back at you, you can tell he's waiting for something. You settle for a small nod.

"Right. A-and then, here to here," he points from his chest to just above his hip, "Hands are fine. Doing... whatever." He steadies himself with another deep breath and rushes through the rest. "Legs, stay still, and anything... direct we'll do the- on the- yeah, got it, that's all."

You let him sit for a moment to make sure there's nothing he forgot. His grip on your hand tightens, and you swear he moves to pull you closer, but he must decide against it at the last second.

"Whose hand is going on top again? Sorry, we've swapped it so many times I can't remember if we decided."

"Oh. Right. Um." He hovers his right hand over his left, then swaps them, then swaps them again. “Yours under mine.”

“Got it.” You reach for him, letting him pull your hand up to his collar. "And you know you can tell me to stop at any time?"

"You tell me that every time."

"It's important every time."

He swallows thickly and traces a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I know."

You shift to pull your legs off to the side, then cross them again, then sit back up on your knees. Gently taking the collar of his shirt in your hands, you trail one thumb along the edge of the fabric until you reach the top button. "And can I do this, or would you like to?"

He nods before realizing there were two options in your question, then points at you, then at your hands, then flashes you a thumbs up. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Well, now hold on, I have manners. I'm not going straight for the goods." He laughs and shimmies to sit up straighter, letting his legs straighten out in front of him. "How about the pants later?"

"Uh, right, that's, I didn't think about that. I mean it would make sense that you're going to be- I mean it's not like-"

"Arataka."

"Yeah." He swallows.

"I'm not going to be offended if you’d like to take off your own pants."

He pauses, staring down at his knee. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I want you to do it."

"And your-?"

"Just do it at the same time."

"Got it." You take a steadying breath of your own. "I won't stay there, but is it okay if I straddle you for a little bit? I wa-"

His hands are pulling at your waist before you can get your legs properly unfolded, and you almost tumble over him. He laughs an apology as you move on top of him, hovering over his legs to avoid making any real contact.

You brush his bangs back from his face, following through with the motion until your fingers tangle in the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. He tilts to follow your hand, craning his neck to keep you from pulling.

"Ready?"

He nods slightly.

"I’d like a verbal yes for this one, lovely."

He swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yeah, yes.” He nods again. His hand jerks, taking yours with it, and he awkwardly lets your hand fall into his lap. You do your best not to move. “I trust you."

You drag your gaze back up to his face, searching for any last signs of reluctance. A bead of sweat trails down his temple, and you’re certain if you put your hand to his cheek you’d worry he had a fever. Sure enough, when you slide your fingers along his jaw, he’s hot to the touch, and the tips of his ears are turning brighter shades of red by the second.

He clears his throat, pushing his jaw into your palm. “Are you gonna-?”

“In a minute.” You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m savoring.”

He scoffs at that, the same scoff he uses when he sees somebody do something stupid in public, and you take the opportunity to catch him by surprise, surging forward to push him down onto the bed. His hands go to your shoulders on instinct but he pulls them back almost immediately, hovering awkwardly in the space between you. Using your grip on his chin, you angle his head so you can lean down and kiss him without knocking your noses together.

Once you’re sure you can support yourself without falling on him, you allow your free hand to trail down, tracing down the muscles in his neck, across his collarbone and back, finally settling on the first button of his shirt. It takes a little effort to get it undone with just one hand, but you manage it, and you allow yourself to dip down as you settle into a rhythm, lips ghosting along Reigen’s skin as you uncover more of it.

He’s shivering, hand shaking where it hovers over yours on the last button of his shirt. When you slide your hand back up along his side, his hand falls back to the bed, pulling at a wrinkle in the sheets.

You kiss along his jaw, savoring the feeling every time his breath catches in his throat under your lips. Your hand trails down along his side, wrapping around him to hold his waist when he arches up into the press of your thumb. He hums, eyelids fluttering, and you dare to slide your hand down, ever so slightly, thumb brushing over his waistband and back onto bare skin.

He grabs for you, grasp tight around your wrist, almost painful before he slowly relaxes and drags your hand back up toward his chest. You push yourself off him, swinging your leg to kneel beside him.

“Here, let’s try this.” You guide him to sit up. Once he’s situated against the headboard, you settle in by his thigh, your knee pressing gently into his hip. One hand traces circles and patterns as you trail down to his stomach. “Still good?”

He hums, but he scrambles for your wrist again, holding on tighter and tighter the closer you get to the button on his pants.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know. I can let you do it.”

“That’s not- mm.” He relaxes his death grip on your arm but keeps his thumb hooked around it. After a few tries to let go completely, his head tips forward into your shoulder. “I thought I would… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and slowly pull away. “Nothing to apologize for.” You cup his face with both hands and gently turn him, but he doesn’t hold your gaze for long. 

“Do you want to keep going? Should I…?”

He opens his mouth, but says nothing. His expression is pinched, tight with something you’re not sure how to label. His fingers press together, thumb and index, thumb and middle, thumb and ring, thumb and pinky, over and over as you lean back, nodding softly.

“Stay in bed?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You swear he flinches, and you clear your throat. “Or move to the couch and watch something?”

“Couch.” He nods once, stiff and harsh, and swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and slides out of bed, starting to button his shirt back up as he wanders into the other room.

You keep nodding as if in a trance, and you follow him out. 

+

Despite the now faint memory of some friend of a friend forcefully inviting you, there's not a single soul at the party you recognize. With the exception of a few people dancing by the kitchen, closer to the speakers, everyone has settled for taking a seat and awkwardly bobbing their head. You’ve repeated the same three lines of small talk more times than you can count, it's just cold enough that you've had the chills the whole time while still managing to feel overwhelmingly stifled, and the music is so awful you wonder how somebody hasn’t tried to change it yet. But there's alcohol, the good stuff that somebody is clearly very particular about, and lots of it. You can't remember how much you've had, and that fact is enough to tell you it was probably too much, but it doesn't stop you from taking whatever the host is passing out when they wander through.

You think Reigen might be the only person doing worse than you. He looks... woozy. His face is flushed and his eyes are lidded like he might throw up, pass out, or both at any moment. At one point he took a tumble when he tried to sit down, graciously ignored by everyone else, and you had to throw your arm around his waist to keep him from sliding down the front of the couch again. He's leaning on you for support every time he moves, and if there were anything left in his can you’re sure he would be spilling it on you right now.

He's restless at the best of times, you know this, but even through the fog you can tell something is off. Not wrong exactly, but he keeps giving you this sideways glance, digging his fingers into your thigh to steady himself and then yanking his hand away, knocking his head into your shoulder and muttering something you haven't been able to make out.

He laughs - way too loudly at something you're not sure was supposed to be funny - and stands abruptly. Your hand around his waist falls limp on the couch, and he sways without the support.

"I'm going to the re- the ba- I gotta piss."

Nobody but you pays him any attention. He takes a wobbly step forward, knocking his foot into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn't seem fazed. His knees bend at a weird angle as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then he straightens back up and whirls around to face you. The momentum sends him tumbling back down, and you manage to catch him before his nose smashes into your jaw.

"I guess you better help me there."

"Yeah." Your voice crackles from dehydration. You have to clear your throat and try again to get a recognizable sound to come out. "Alright." You do a quick mental scan of your legs to make sure they'll support you before you motion for him to get up so you can stand. He does, grabbing your wrist and pulling with the conviction of somebody who does not need help walking.

The gears in your head start to turn.

He drags you along, glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner into the hallway, only stumbling once when he has to screech to a halt and back up to yank a door open. He pushes you inside, pulling the door closed behind him after he follows you in.

It's pitch black, and you're not sure if the overwhelming lemon smell is coming from Reigen or something in the room. You reach out to find him, but your fingers brush against something cold and smooth instead, and it's not until it tilts and hits you in the head that you realize it's probably a handle for something. Reigen's hand whacks into your arm and he holds on tight, fingers digging into your shoulder as he pulls you forward.

"I don't think that was the right door."

"Hm? Oh, sure." You can feel the air beside you moving until eventually his other hand finds your face, one finger dragging across your cheek until it hits your nose. "No, I- yeah, I know."

"Then wh-"

He pushes, hard and sudden. You fight to keep your balance as you adjust to the weird backwards lean you find yourself in. Reigen hisses as he pulls his fingers out from between you and the wall.

"Dumb, that was so dumb. Sorry." He fumbles for your waist to guide you backwards, and you feel his hips press against you when he reaches past your head to lean on the wall.

Everything clicks together all at once.

Your hands fly to where his waist should be. Once you find him, you're not sure if you want to shove him away or pull him in closer.

"You're super drunk. I don't know if-"

"Tha's the point." The hand on your face slides around until his thumb catches your bottom lip. He sways, like talking about it has made him remember how much he's had to drink. When he leans against you, he's heavier than normal, like he can’t support his weight anymore. "Liquid courage."

"I’m drunk." 

"Mm. Shit." He pulls away, just barely, and he nods. "Do you mind?"

Your mouth drops open uselessly. All your thoughts feel like static, indecipherable noise screaming for you to do something, if only you could figure out what. He's squirming now, like it hurts to stay still. You realize he's whimpering at the same time you realize he's grinding his hips against your leg.

“M’fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and drops his hands as he shuffles around. You take the chance to stand back up. When you finally bump into each other again, he wraps his arms around you and squeezes, his breathing coming out in pants against your chest.  He hooks one leg around yours, tapping his foot against your heel to bring your leg forward. You make a strangled humming sound when he grinds against your thigh.

"Hey, where's your hand?"

"My...?" You suddenly remember you have hands. You allow yourself a moment of silence for all the time you could have been holding onto him before you push one hand forward. It smacks into what you think is his stomach. "Sorry. Here."

"S'kay. Stay put." You keep your hand pressed against him as he leans backward. You're not sure when he stopped holding onto you, but one of his hands is suddenly over yours, and a loud zip cuts through the sound of you both breathing. He slides his hand down, dragging yours with it. Your fingers glide along his skin, smooth and soft, until you brush against a patch of hair.

A sobering panic cuts through you.

He must realize what he's doing at the same time you do, because you both freeze. His grip tightens. He guides your hand away from him slowly, stopping when he makes contact with your side.

"Stay... stay put."

He turns and scrambles for the door. Something falls beside you when he misses the doorknob, then you're squinting as light floods in from the hallway. You can make out the silhouette of him sprinting into the room diagonal from where you're standing, and then there's the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Your place is only two blocks away - no more than a ten minute walk.

You call a cab service.

+

It smells like coffee.

When you try to sit up, the room spins. You end up in a sort of half sit, half lean as you grab onto the side of the mattress, willing everything to stay still. You take stock of the things that are clear enough to look at, slowly making sense of what happened once you got home.

You're laying on top of the covers, still in your clothes from last night. One shoe is in the doorway, and the other is nowhere in sight, probably somewhere closer to the entrance. The coffee smell, growing more enticing by the second, is a good sign Reigen's in the kitchen.

You slide onto the floor beside your bed, not trusting yourself to stand up without falling just yet, to rummage for more comfortable clothes. Once you manage to get changed, you stand up slowly, and make your way to the kitchen.

Reigen must have grabbed a set of pajamas at some point last night, though you can't remember when. His back is turned to you; he's lazily stirring something on the stove. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on the counter beside him. Before you can decide whether you want to say something and risk startling him, he seems to sense you standing there, and he turns around with a weak smile.

"Hey."

"Morning?" It's both a greeting and a question, because you have no idea what time it is.

"Yeah." He lets out a breathy chuckle. "How, um, how you feeling?"

Your head is throbbing so bad your teeth hurt, your legs and back are sore, and you have a looming sense of guilt.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, really." He clicks off the fire and reaches for a bowl. "I told you, I felt basically back to normal after I- well, um, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for car- for carrying me."

You nod softly, feeling a little useless as he hands you what looks and smells like a very delicious soup.

"Reigen, I am so-" "I didn't mean-"

He reaches for a second bowl. "You first." When you start to shake your head, he rolls his wrist in a "go on" motion. "Please. I'm not actually sure how to say mine yet."

"Right." You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your spoon. Deep in thought, you miss Reigen slipping past you. He clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. You slide into the chair. Your spoon clanks against the bowl as you set it down. "I, um. Shit, I'm so sorry."

He seems surprised, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips.

"What for?"

"Wh-" You blink. "Every... thing? I- I know sorry doesn't even cover it, but I-"

"Whoa, hey, okay." He shakes his hand in front of him. "Never mind, I'll go first, because I think you got the wrong idea and I'm not gonna let you apologize for anything that happened."

"But you trusted me, and I-"

"And I still do. That's- that was the whole- look, I-" He sighs. His spoon clanks as he sets it down, abandoned in favor of wringing his hands together. "I set you up."

"You-?"

"I didn't mean to! I thought- It was stupid, and I should have just told you what I was trying to do, I know , but I- I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I thought if I could speed up the process, then- I mean, there's only so many times you can put up with almost getting to- if I could- ugh, sorry, hang on."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You swear your headache is reacting sympathetically, because pain shoots between your temples, dull but persistent. He goes to retrieve the coffees from the kitchen, just cool enough to drink, and you down some as soon as he hands you a mug.

"You've been so patient, and I know you would never do anything I didn't want, but I... I keep overthinking it. And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to... to not have to think about it at all. I mean that's- that's just what people do at parties, right, and- I mean, it was... ugh." He sits back down, his posture unnaturally rigid. He chooses his next words carefully, pausing between words as if he’s testing out different sentences in his head. "I trusted you… to not take it further than I was comfortable with… more than I trusted myself to… not panic over nothing. So, I- I saw the chance and I..." He gestures weakly, hand falling back to the table with a soft thump.

"Liquid courage."

He takes a sip of his coffee and slumps forward, holding his chin with one hand.

"You... got drunk on purpose?"

"Not originally, but, uh."

You nod slowly. Your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven't actually eaten any of your soup. You take a reluctant spoonful, chewing slowly as you take everything in.

"When you froze up, it- I realized how little I had thought it through. I- it wasn't fair to you. You didn't do anything to- I never should have put you in that position in the first place."

"I... would have appreciated a warning, yeah."

"Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair and leaves it against the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." Reigen relaxes into his chair. As he stretches his legs out, one of his feet bumps against your ankle, and you laugh softly. "I'm still sorry, too. I should have asked more questions. And I didn't... I think I noticed something was wrong but I didn’t realize it was that frustrating for you. Before, I mean. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do something like that."

"It's exclusively a me problem, I promise. I thought something would have worked by now. I don't... I don't really know what’s getting in the way." He shakes his head, breathing out sharply through his nose.

“I mean, literally speaking, your hands.” You laugh and take another sip of your coffee. He tilts his head. “Because, you know, y-you always grab my hand before I-?” He stares, unblinking. “Sorry, too soon to joke, probably,” you mutter into your cup, taking another sip just to have something to do.

When he moves again, it’s with a jerky start, sitting up and leaning forward. “My hands.”

“Yeah, I-”

“No, my hands.” He throws his elbows onto the table. The bowls clatter and his coffee sloshes; his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. His wrists come together in front of you, palms up and fingers curled loosely, as he stares, silent, waiting for a glimpse of recognition to cross your face. It takes a moment, but when he finds it, he grins. “My hands.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Saying so has always been enough.”

You stand, leaning to match his eye level. You consider him, searching for hesitation, but you find none.

You take his hand, and you start pulling.

+

“This is… mine?” An old black tie lays across Reigen’s palms, the ends hanging loosely over his thighs.

“Yeah, you left it here. A while ago, I guess.” You shrug. “You never really liked it, though, plus you’re here all the time anyway, so I didn’t get around to giving it back, and it’s just been here ever since.”

As you slide the drawer closed, he catches a glimpse of an old t-shirt he left on his first night in your place, folded neatly in the back corner, under a small collection of his dress socks. 

There are signs of him everywhere, really, if he looks. His toothbrush in your bathroom, a blanket he bought you for your birthday draped over the back of the couch, his favorite sweater of yours hanging on the handle of the closet, never out of service long enough to make it in with the rest of your clothes.

He’s struck with the realization it’s not just in your things, your home, but in you, the way you gesture with an extra dramatic flourish that wasn’t there before, the unwavering, tight smile that settles on your face when you talk to clients, the softness in your voice when you welcome the kids into the office, quietly clearing a table for them to do homework on, the flashes of movement in the kitchen as you dash back and forth whenever you make recipes he taught you - favorites from when things were harder and uncertain and cooking was his escape, before even the hardest parts of his life were laced with joy.

He’s wearing off on you.

He’s known it for a while, but he’s never put it all together like this, never seen it all so neatly represented in a single black tie, satin and unassuming and full of possibility. You kick your abandoned shoe out of the way, pushing the door shut with a soft click that startles him just enough to draw his attention.

“Still okay?”

He wonders how you’ve worn off on him, which parts of him weren’t there before that he doesn’t notice, can’t notice.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m ready.”

He smooths his thumb over the fabric, watching it wrinkle and crease where he applies pressure. It slides across his palms, dragging slowly as you wrap one end around your hand, until he’s left with empty air, hands outstretched between you.

He feels light.

You take his hands in yours, turning them in toward each other, and start to lay the tie across his wrists.

“Oh, wait!” You pull back right away, and he holds up one finger. “Not- we should take my shirt off first.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You laugh and settle back onto your knees. “Yes, okay, let’s- yeah.”

Reigen stops halfway up. The fabric stays bunched when he lets go, and he pulls your hands to the exposed patch of skin. He can feel the tie, still wrapped around your palm, pressing against his side, cold and smooth, and he swallows thickly. As you drag your hands up, it slides up with you, and a shiver wracks through him when you finally pull the shirt off his arms.

He cups your face, pulling you into a kiss, fingers coming to press at the back of your neck to keep you against him as he topples backward. You catch yourself on one hand, the end of the tie flipping to rest over his shoulder as you climb to straddle him. He’s insistent, both hands tangling in your hair, little sighs and puffs of breath against your mouth as he refuses to pull away for air.

You press a kiss to his cheek to soothe the loss when you lean back. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, locking his fingers together behind your head.

“We could stay like this? My hands are… close-ish together.”

“I can’t see behind me to tie it, but,” you pull his hands around your head, “I’m sure we can figure it out after that.”

He nods. You turn his hands back toward each other and his fingers curl, knuckles pressing together as he relaxes. You drape the tie around his wrists, trying a few different ways of looping it but not finding anything you’re satisfied with.

“Sorry. I just wanna make sure you can get out if you need.”

“It’s alright. I like the attention.”

You freeze, a wobbly grin taking shape as your face heats up.

“‘Taka, I’m supposed to be the composed one!”

“I’m just trying to be honest!” He flexes his wrists, pressing his knuckles together to crack them.

“Don’t worry,” you press both ends of the tie between his hands and motion for him to hold them still, “I like giving you attention.” You fold the middle of the tie over to make two loops and start twisting them in on themselves. “And I wanna hear about it as much as you can bear.”

“You seem plenty composed to me.” He pinches his thumb between two fingers and squeezes.

“Quick recovery. I learned from the best.” You wink and put your fingers through the loops. “Here, hands in here.”

He flattens his hands to squeeze them through, stopping to let you shimmy the tie the rest of the way over. You hold the ends of the tie and give a quick tug before tying them together.

“There, it’ll have to do.” You slip a finger in each loop, making sure there’s enough room to be comfortable without him being able to slip out without meaning to. “It’s a little loose, so don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Sure.” He folds his elbows down, letting his hands come to rest on his chest. He jerks one hand up toward his hair, pulling his other hand with it, and the tie snaps taut. He has the courtesy to look sheepish. “I’ll try.”

You roll your eyes, smile still wide.

“Hands above your head, please.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to get at your neck.” You press up on his elbows, and he unfolds his arms. “Those were in the way.”

“O-oh. Right.”

You lean down, tilting his chin up with one hand, and press a kiss to his throat, savoring the way it moves as he swallows. You trail down until you reach his stomach, dragging your tongue along his skin on the way back up. He exhales sharply, breath moving your hair as you get closer to his face. He forces out a laugh, and he rolls one shoulder.

You glance up. The tie is already starting to come loose, untwisting in the middle, but his hands are clasped together, the tie held in place between his wrists, fingers over the ends.

You kiss him, quick and breathless, and slip your fingers under his waistband. When his breath hitches, you smooth your thumb along the bone there, a reassurance you won’t move yet. You can feel him tense under you, pressing up into your touch, then slowly settling back onto the mattress.

You’re both reluctant to acknowledge the fact that you have to get off of him to take his pants off. You do your best to shimmy them under you, and he lifts his hips to help, but you need both hands to make sure his boxers stay on for now, and you want to make sure he can move his legs, so eventually, begrudgingly, you climb off him.

He takes the opportunity to stretch, his back arching off the bed as you throw his pants off somewhere to worry about later.

“Ooh, pretty. Think you can do that for me again?” You press a thumb to the inside of his thigh, at the edge of where his boxer leg has ridden up, and he jumps, hips rolling against your touch.

“Trickery.” He squirms, a whine that refuses to come out shining through in his voice. “Not fair.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more chances.” You trail your fingers up his thigh, along the “v” of the bone, up his stomach. He shivers when you trail back down, your fingers catching on the waistband of his boxers to drag it over his skin before letting go, settling your hand lightly over the bulge in the fabric. It’s slightly damp against your skin, and Reigen chokes back a moan when you press down. 

You pull, grinding your palm down on his cock as the waistband moves until you can see the base of it, then you slide back up, tracing the outline of him with your fingers. When he whimpers, you’re too slow to hide your grin, and he glares halfheartedly.

“Having fun down there?”

“Oh, lots, thanks.” You slip your thumb below the elastic. “Seems like you are, too.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You lift your hand with mock alarm, and he scrambles to reach for you, slowly lowering his arms to his chest when he sees your smile.

“Yes.”

“So, just to make sure, you are having fun?” It’s just as sarcastic as it is serious, and he seems to take it in equal measures, because he scoffs at the same time he nods. Both hands are on his hips now, both thumbs in his waistband, and you pull up gently to get him to lift his hips.

“Good boy.”

You’re not sure you would have felt it if you weren’t holding him, but he definitely shudders, trembling where your fingers press into his skin.

“Arataka.”

“Hmm?” He sounds breathless, and his chest heaves with effort, the rest of him as still as he can keep it.

“Should I keep calling you a good boy?”

“Um. If you want.” He jerks his hips up, and you take the hint to slide his boxers off, keeping an eye on his face as you do. You climb between his legs and lean over him, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, firmly but gently, your thumb over the tip.

He squeaks, and he tenses, but he doesn’t reach for your hands.

“You’re doing so well, ‘Taka.” He swallows, and he shifts his hands, twisting the tie so he can lay his arms closer to his hair. “Such a good boy for me.” Precum oozes out of his slit, and you feel it roll down your hand.

“Mhm.” You lean back on your heels. “How about this? You tell me what feels good, and every time you do,” you pull your thumb down, spreading the precum along his length, “I’ll let you know just how much I appreciate it. Sound good?”

He nods, and you stop moving.

“Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his wrists together, “yes, sounds good.”

“Good job.” When you lean to kiss him, grip tightening to keep his dick down against his stomach, his knuckles brush over your hair. “So perfect.”

You start slow, focusing more on touching every inch of him then keeping any sort of rhythm. When you trail up the vein on the underside, he shivers, and he gasps when you squeeze the base, and his hips jerk up when you pass over his slit, one leg coming up to press his ankle against your side. It’s not until you slip your other hand around him, though, arm passing through the space created by the bend of his knee to settle on his outer thigh, that he says anything.

“Fuck, that, more of that. P-please.”

“This hand?” You press your fingers into his thigh. He presses back.

“Yeah. I need… just, hold onto me.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You scoot closer to wrap your hand tighter around his leg, spreading your legs to slip your knee underneath him. Once he relaxes, the full weight of his leg on yours, you press a kiss to his knee. “Good boy.”

“Shit,” he laughs, squirming closer to you. “S’not close enough.”

“Let me try something, then.” You slide backwards, reluctantly letting his leg fall to the bed, and you shimmy onto your stomach. When you pull his leg over your shoulder, he immediately hooks his ankle into your back and lets out a breathy moan. The pressure makes it a little harder to reach back around his thigh, but he relaxes into it easier, and the view is incredible. “There you go, perfect.”

You start up a little faster this time, twisting your wrist as you move up and down, and he bucks up into your hand. You risk a kiss to his thigh and his hands fly to your hair, the ends of the tie flowing down against your cheek.

“Sorry, too much?”

“Not enough.” His voice is scratchy now, and he gives a little tug once he gets a hold of you. “Can you, don’t put it- but, closer?”

“You want me here instead?” You press a kiss to the underside of his cock, flipping the loose ends of the tie out of the way to lay across his hip.

“Y-yes. Yes, fuck.”

“Gladly.” Between words, you pepper kisses along his shaft, following the trail of your hand up and down. “Thank you for letting me do this for you. You look so beautiful like this, feeling so good.”

He starts to make a noise of protest, but it quickly shifts into a stifled groan when you press a kiss to his tip, just barely letting your tongue drag across his slit as you pull away.

He whines and bucks his hips to follow you, and you can’t help but let an incredulous laugh slip out. “Alright, love, I’m gonna give you a choice, okay?”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Option one, you can tell me exactly how you want me to make you come. If you want my hand or my mouth or to go faster or slower or anything at all you just have to say the word. But I won’t do anything you don’t tell me, so you’ll have to say exactly what you want.”

His breathing is ragged, and he twitches in your grasp. “And option two?”

You grin and lean over him, propping yourself up on one hand. “I do whatever makes you the loudest, and if you stop making those pretty noises for me, I stop.” He seems to flinch at that, and you brush his hair back. “Just for a little while.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed, and he pulls his arms in and down to drape one across his forehead. The tie was never really secure in the first place, but after quite a bit of pulling and flailing, it’s fully undone by now, nothing but luck and stubborn determination holding the loops in place around Reigen’s wrists.

“Both options, of course, come with all sorts of praise and admiration.” You slip a finger under the fabric and give a light tug. He lifts his hands to let the tie slide free.

When he opens his eyes, a shudder running down his spine, he sees you absent-mindedly tying the tie around your neck, uneven and loose, hanging down between you to brush against his stomach. He’s sure you just needed somewhere to put it, something to do with your hands, but it flips a strangely possessive switch somewhere inside him. Not because he’s seeing you in his clothes - he’s had the privilege of that many times before - but because you’ve taken the thing that was supposed to restrain his ability to fuck up the situation, taken something he left safe for you to keep track of without even realizing he’d done it, taken the symbol of his presence in your space and your time and your life, and you’ve put it on without a second thought. He thinks of his misguided reasoning that got you into this situation, that he trusts you with him more than he trusts himself, and he knows what he wants.

For once, words are failing him, which just makes the choice even easier.

“Second one.”

Your eyebrows raise a little, like you’re surprised at his answer, and he almost takes it all back, but then you’re grinning and leaning down to cup his jaw, kissing him like he’s giving you the only air you could ever breathe, and he moans into your mouth.

You lean away just enough to pull in a gasp of air, fingers sliding to tangle into the base of his hair.

“Just like that, gorgeous.”

He laughs, sucking in a shaky breath as you wrap your hand around him again. It pinches into a sort of strained whimper as he starts to quiet himself and thinks better of it, and you start moving.

“That’s it, good boy, just let me take care of everything.”

For all he got into his head before, breaking the seal of touching him seems to have removed any last bits of hesitation, because he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. Your experimenting earlier left you with a good idea of what will get the best noises out of him, and he doesn’t hold back. You’re silently thankful, not only because you get to hear him, but also because you’re not sure you could have followed through on your threat of stopping. And if he’s exaggerating for your sake, all clipped moans and raspy mumbling and bucking hips, well, you’re not going to complain.

After a particularly tight stroke up his cock and a brush of teeth up the inside of his thigh, he pulls one arm over his mouth, pushing it against his lips with his other hand. You’re still deciding if that counts as muffling his sounds enough to slow down when he bites his wrist and yelps, a loud, desperate, frantic noise that seizes what little of your attention isn’t already on him. His head tips back as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, hand flipping to clamp down over his mouth, and you can see the bite mark, lines pressed into the pale skin just below the jut of bone where palm meets wrist. It takes you a minute to realize he’s saying something, your brain struggling to piece his noises together into words.

“Can I have your hand?” You hum, scrambling to extract your hand from his leg. “I just- I need,” he opens and closes his hands, “something.” When you hold your hand up blindly toward him, he takes it quickly and holds on tight, fingers lacing together with yours. He gives a few tugs, and you hurry to sit up.

“Please, I need- I can’t take it anymore.” He looks frantic, eyebrows pinched together and his chest heaving with ragged, shaky breaths. His hips buck wildly, quick and shallow into your curled fingers. You realize you’ve forgotten to keep moving as you were watching him, and you quickly correct your mistake, reveling in the shiver that racks through him as your thumb swipes over his tip.

He’s begging now, your name falling out in pieces between gasps and cries; he’s still tugging at your hand like you can’t get close enough, pressing his lips to your jaw like he can’t quite remember how to leave kisses there. He pitches his hips up and presses against you, knees coming together to press into your sides, pinning your hand against your torso as he lets out a final shuddering whimper.

He comes across your fingers, his whole body tense as he holds himself up, back arched and head rolled to the side. He moves to wrap his arms around you, forgetting that his elbow is supporting him, and he pulls you down with him as he falls the short distance to the mattress.

You do your best to roll off him without letting go of him during the aftershocks, but you’re not exactly paying attention to where you’re still holding, and he yelps again from the overstimulation. You yank your hand away with half an apology, smoothing your hand up his side as you lift yourself up on your other arm.

“Nono, wait, don’t-” He scrambles to grab you wherever he can, and you intercept him before he can smack you across the face.

“It’s okay, ‘Taka, s’okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t wanna crush you. Let’s sit up so you can get some water, alright? All that noise can really make your throat sore, I know.” You slip your hands under him, one at the small of his back and one between his shoulders, gently lifting him toward the headboard. “That’s it. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

Once he’s upright, a glass of water in two shaky hands, you lean over the side of the bed to fumble for a washcloth. When he doesn’t slow down on his own, you start to reach for the glass, but he pulls away for a big gulp of air before you can.

“How you feelin’?”

He doesn’t answer right away, leaving you to fidget with the cloth, slowly reaching for his thigh. He lets his eyes slide closed as you start to wipe him off, smoothing an apologetic thumb over his hip when he hisses from the sensitivity. You wipe your hand on a mostly clean corner before you chuck it in the general direction of the hamper, silently relieved when it makes it in.

“I think I died.” His hands are still shaking as he goes to set the glass on your nightstand, and you gingerly take it from him, lifting yourself up to set it on the far corner where neither of you can accidentally knock it off later. “I understand you now.”

“You didn’t die, I promise.” You allow yourself a smirk and pull a blanket up from the end of the bed. “That’s high praise, though.”

“You’re high praise.”

“You’re the one that liked it so much.”

He rolls his eyes, too tired to argue. As you pull yourself up the bed to sit beside him, he leans over, one hand sliding behind you to rest on your hip. Now that he doesn’t have the distraction of everything else, you can tell he’s starting to think, because his ears are tinting pink and he’s fidgeting with a string on the edge of the blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to oblige.”

You scoop his hand into yours, leaving the blanket’s seams to live another day, and examine the bite mark on his wrist.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you turn his arm over. “The hell was I thinking?”

“Obviously you weren’t, which is both the point and very hot, so hush.” He turns away stubbornly, but he looks pleased. “You could probably say a spirit did it. Biting seems like an evil ghost thing to do, right?”

“With clearly human teeth?”

“Maybe it… stole them?”

He laughs, pulling away from your grip to get comfortable against your side. Just as you start to drift off, soothed by the sound of his breathing slowing and his weight settling on you as he relaxes, you feel his fingers walking down your hip, making their way to your thigh. You crack one eye open, and he looks away with obviously fake innocence.

“Where you going with that hand, darling?”

He smiles, bright and daring, as his fingers dig in. “Your turn?”

You consider it. You’re not quite capable of fully ignoring how turned on seeing him like this has made you. There’s a bit of nervous energy, buzzing over what’s left of your hangover, excitement, the joy that bubbles up in your chest at seeing him smiling at you like that, everything coming together in an overwhelming, swirling feeling of wanting whatever he will give you. But there’s something else, a calm undercurrent to it all, coating the emotion in quiet and directing it all back to a single point, solid and unwavering and right .

More than anything, you are content.

He sees your expression and laughs, must know what you’re going to say the moment you decide, because he mouths the words along with you as he pulls his hand back up to your hip.

“Maybe next time.”

[sapphic--kiwi]

all the quick TOH character drawings I did for inbox trick or treating today 🎃💜🧡

[ruvviks]

The Dobrynin family is a corpo family through and through, rooted in Arasaka and Orbital Air going back by several generations; though their powerful position within the corporate world ends with the children of Nadya and Matvey Dobrynin. With Vitali and Daniil fired from Arasaka and Kang Tao respectively— the former indirectly getting his parents fired, too— and Roksana having refused to set foot within a megacorporation from the start, the family begins crumbling apart at the very seams when clashing interests lead to grudges, betrayal, and pointless acts of revenge. ↳ read the unrevised fic here if you're interested!

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[rattkachuk]

Hello! Hope you are having a good day.

So I have a question for you, just ignore when you don't feel like answering.

I came to Mattdrai via the enemies/rivals to lovers tag and then got sucked into hockey. I really like the fanon take on Leon, fav character, fanon Matthew was fine but way too woobified and infantilized in so many fics. So my surprise when I started to watch games, interviews etc. Public Matthew is so confident, so loving, awesome family to back him up, especially Brady, hot as hell, sexy way of playing hockey, amazing public persona. Loved and respected by his team, beyond hockey.

Then Leon. His only trait seems to be that he's pissy which I can appreciate but it seems that he's just a downright mean, arrogant guy with a superiority complex (see that interview when he puts Silovs down.) I don't find him stoic at all but he's just seems boring and bland and yeah, pissy. It doesn't seem like he has fun or likes his team a lot or is liked by them (Connor aside and his skills aside.) His friendship with Connor seems the only endearing or likeable thing. He even looks good in a bland way and his hockey is while it's so skillful it's not hot and also I wonder why his dirty plays aren't called out more often.

So what do I miss? Where does great fanon Leon come from? Why is he written mostly so superior to Matthew and where comes the "his team likes Leon so much but Matthew is an outcast in his own team come from?) It's so far from what I gather from old and new interviews or games and I have watched a lot, also German interviews. I really would like to like Leon, shipping them had been more fun when I didn't find his public self so jarring. What do I not see what everyone else seems to get?

Sorry for the long ask! Have a great day and thank you

first off thank you for such a thought out ask! i don't get to dive into things like this a lot outside of writing fic and it got my brain gears going.

to get right into the bulk of this ask: i get what you are saying about leon. that can be the way he comes off for sure, and look everything i'm gonna say? i'm talking out of my ass here. i don't claim to know anything about him as a person besides what's publicly presented, and i don't have much right to theorize about why he is the way that he is, but i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it. how would i write rpf otherwise, right 💀

i think he cares a lot. and i think sometimes he gets so wrapped up in things, how things should be, how he should be performing, etc, and when it doesn't go a certain way he gets frustrated and snarky (eg, pissy comments and such). but i don't see that being bad necessarily, especially when it's seems to come from such a team oriented state of mind. which, i dont think he dislikes his team at all? i think if anything, he has a sort of blind faith in his team, and that's the only context i could see a 'superiority complex' making sense in. and yah maybe a little misplaced at times, but ultimately i think it comes from believing so fully in his team and not seeing that come to fruition. he really does not seem to care about his individual performance much at all, so how self obsessed can he be? when i think about leon i just see someone that is ultimately very passionate and committed to the game he plays. i'm also curious to know where you get the vibe that his team doesn't like him? simply because i never got that impression from any of the other oilers, they all seem like they're obsessed with him.

beyond hockey, i see a caring, sweet, kindhearted individual. anytime i see a picture or vid of him interacting with bowie, or even the things his girlfriend posts about him, the comments he leaves for people on ig, and yah of course in the way he talks/acts around connor, i see fragments of someone soooo different than the little two minute post game interviews (which, can we judge any hockey player on those? i think they all hate them dfkjgsd). it's not always something i actively go digging for or have examples of the top of my head, but i do see it, and it definitely goes into creating the version of leon that i have in my mind.

hey, and, he's a silly guy!!! please, i know the reputation is pissy and humourless, ESPECIALLY in fic, but that man is so funny. so many random offhanded comments that make me pause and then laugh. a different sense of humour but it's so there. i love the sandcastle vid from the asg last year and feel like it's a good example of that, all sunburnt and happy. also hey, big man in tune with his fear of the ocean? love that. that little vid of him dancing on the ice earlier this season, those halloween photos where he's dressed as a monkey, every time he talks to a kid. hell, seeing him in warmups and watching the way he takes time to interact fans?? loveee watching warmups but i'd never had a player actually acknowledge my existence before leon!

also i really enjoy his personality on the ice, i like the rat behaviour and the sassy comments that he makes to other players/refs, i like the bitch moves, and i like his hockey too. i think his game is dependable and like you said skillful, and while maybe not the most creative, the sureness and the technical aspect it is hot to me. so my thoughts on everything are probably skewed in that regard.

anyways this was just a whole lot of rambling about why i find him interesting, endearing even, but i understand the perception you have. i don't like some players that other people love, just cause i cant see what they see. and honestly that's sometimes just the way it is! if you don't like leon, maybe u just don't like him and thats fine.

disclaimer that i have only been on hockeyblr for a couple years, and really didn't spare many thoughts for leon til the beginning of the 22/23 season. truthfully i'm hardly the person to ask about leon imo, but of course i have thoughts anyways! if someone else with more knowledge reads my bit of rambling here, please feel free to chime in and add your voice to this!

and side note, ofc, i have to touch on this bc who would i be if i'm not one to talk about matthew; in the way of m.tkachuk, i think that in the early days of mattdrai it was maybe a fair take away during his time with the flames (minus the woobifying). even though he was loved so much here and had some fucking times, and i think the team was mostly good to him (player wise if not regarding management, that is), i see such a stark difference now that he's on the panthers. he seems much happier and more confident, and obviously he's clicking with the cats on another level, and i do see a shift in how he's been portrayed in fics since tbh.