#and with that said: his aim is near perfect <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mochipatch]

Something to Prove and Nothing to Lose

Ricky: YES YES YES! This is a masterclass, Carlos, good job!

Carlos: Yes! Yes! Thank you! Ahh, this feels so good! Forza Ferrari!

It was the perfect weekend. It is the ideal weekend.

He had been feeling it since the end of the month-long break. This uphill climb in 2024 is the hardest thing he has fought in his racing career, losing a seat to a seven-time world champion, scrambling on his feet to get back up and find a team that will welcome him with open arms (a top team is a bonus), where he could find a new home. With the second break coming to an end. He started to feel it. He can feel it thrumming in his veins. 

He felt it at COTA. He had it on hand. First, on FP1, Sprint Qualifying could have gone better, but he gritted his teeth, taking in on every opportunity. Ultimately, it was P2, which was good but not good enough. Qualifying felt good until a red flag aborted his run, which could have been pole. He had a good start, but the squabble between Max and Lando caught him in a bind, which was not the same with Charles, who got away smoothly and led laps to victory while he ended in P2. He always said he wanted another win before leaving Ferrari in his interviews. Time is running out with six races left, and he is P2. Frustrated, he could have done better but was a victim of circumstance. The racing gods whispering in his head - No, not yet. 

The celebration of the team in their motorhome felt like the start of a goodbye. Maybe this is what it all could be - a podium but never a win. So he tried to soak it all up, disappointment emanating from every pore in his body but trying to be happy because he would not be a person to rob off a good celebration for a team, the team that he has bled red for ever since his childhood dream team opened its door to him, much less a teammate that he considers a good friend and a good motivator to be better. 

We will go and start again is his mantra. 

Mexico is always a lively affair with all the pomp and circumstance. He never finished on the podium in this circuit, but the free practices felt promising, placing him in the top 3 every time. Qualifying was nerve-wracking in Q1 and Q3, but something clicked in Q3, and he got two lap times that ensured him pole position on both occasions. He savors the high, the adrenaline rushing through him. He is giggly and all joyous, as if he is already on the podium. Everything felt right. A thought ran through his head - Is this my time? Asking the voice in his head, which denied him COTA. No one answered.

It’s lights out, and away we go.

He is off to a good start, but Max is even better. He tried his darndest to defend, but Max got the upper hand; he had nothing to lose now, but crashing was not an option, so he chose to run to the grass and give back the position. Is this your answer to my question? He asks again. A safety car allowed him to be closer to Max, but it was only until lap 9 that he decided to take charge. Damned be the racing gods, he will take charge. He overtakes Max, but Max isn’t going down without a fight. But by the skin of his teeth, he takes the lead and defends the overtake. He manages his tires, looking for every variable that could go wrong. He won’t be comfortable until he crosses the checkered flag. He has hunted, and the 19 drivers behind him will hunt him down to take his place if a sliver of opportunity arises. As lap 71 nears, he grows more and more confident. He knows Lando is catching up with the gap closing into 4 seconds, but he knows that the laps will not be enough to catch him. It's the last lap; he aims to go to their side once he sees the pit wall. He spots a pit board and the people in red climbing the fence, raising their fists and yelling, never mind that the roar of the engines drowns out their voices. He crosses the checkered flag, and his mind blanks for a second. He did it. He did it. 

HE FUCKING DID IT. 

He hears Ricky's radio, and he answers on autopilot. Thanking Ferrari, thanking the team that let him bleed red even if it left him feeling nothing, for letting him walk through the doors of history, of legacy. He parks his car in front of the P1 sign board, and it takes him a second to process what happened. He gets out of the car, and there is something in the crowd's layout that feels like this win was just made for him. The mechanics pull him into a hug, and he hugs them just as fiercely, hoping his hold conveys his gratitude to them. 

It was tradition for the winner to wear a sombrero while being lifted off the platform; he just wanted something simple for all the fanfare he had gone through this weekend. He opts out of the sombrero and just holds his helmet because it all boils down to this: he and his car. He raises his helmet to the crowd, pointing at his number, and takes in the crowd once more. Once the Spanish National Anthem plays out, everything comes to a head: the euphoria of the win in front of the Mexican crowd and his family on the audience, the tiredness from the season that has brought him, and the bittersweet feeling of what would have been. Before he knows it, he feels a prickle in his eyes and cheeks. 

Oh. 

He is crying. 

The Italian anthem plays next when he hears a voice in his head. You did it. Your time has finally come once more. 

He took charge and the racing gods granted his wish; he waited, and he finally had it. 

[onestepfcrward]

the real reason shadow uses a gun, as if he wasn’t already op enough. it’s so he can end someone’s life immediately without investing himself in a fight that’s not worth his time.

[heegyukeluv]

the devil wears prada (sjy)

pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.

my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)

warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 5.4k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.

You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.

Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.

It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.

Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?

You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.

As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.

You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.

Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 

It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.

After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.

Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.

You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.

Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.

Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.

You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.

He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 

You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.

The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.

With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.

The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.

As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.

You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”

Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.

“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 

As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”

“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.

His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.

The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.

“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.

Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.

Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.

Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 

Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.

There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”

Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.

And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 

“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.

Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.

“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”

It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 

Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.

Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.

As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.

You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.

Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.

His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  

After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.

You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.

Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 

You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 

Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.

Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.

The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 

Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.

A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.

You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”

You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 

The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 

Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.

“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.

“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 

“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  

“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 

Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 

“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.

A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 

Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 

Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 

There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.

His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 

“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”

Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.

You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.

Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 

“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 

Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.

“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”

Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.

You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 

He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.

Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.

His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.

Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.

He was on cloud nine. 

Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 

Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.

Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.

“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.

The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”

Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.

Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 

You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.

"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."

Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.

You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.

“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.

Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 

Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 

With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.

Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.

There’s no way he…

"Shit, I didn't bring–"

You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.

"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 

Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.

"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 

"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 

Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 

His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.

You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.

“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”

“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.

And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 

Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.

"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”

You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.

Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.

Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.

He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.

"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."

Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 

“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.

Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.

You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.

“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”

You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.

When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.

“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.

A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.

The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.

At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 

“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.

Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 

Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 

Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.

You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.

You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.

Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.

“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.

So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 

You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 

“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 

You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 

With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.

[helloitstsyu]

Confession | Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

My masterlist

Pairing : '86 Maverick x f¡reader

Summary : you have a crush on maverick, he notices. Maverick pushes you to confess.

Warnings: alluded smut. Mostly overall fluff.

Requested: by anon. Thanks for requesting i hope you enjoy!<3

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

What's to like about him? He's so full of himself and he doesn't follow the rules. He happens to be your instructor too, your commander. He is trouble. But that doesn't stop you from developing a crush on this cocky commander.

That's what you should've seen in the first place. Not his pleasing smile, amazing hair, and perfect eyes, or his impeccably hot exterior. Maverick is hot. He is damn hot. But the more turning weeks you spend in Top Gun near his presence, the more you notice what a gentleman that he actually is. And that.... made you fall even deeper for someone's out of your league.

The result of your uncontrolled emotion is that you find yourself insanely shy around him. You have no idea you can be that shy. But whenever he's around, you'd feel your heart double beating in times. Perhaps you're so scared that he'd notice, or perhaps you're too afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

"Mayday, mayday, we got fuck me eyes in the area," Dingle, your RIO whispers to you.

"Gosh, Dingle!" You slap his back as he laughs contentedly.

Dingle's the only one who knows about your crush on the instructor. You didn't tell him of course, he figured it out. He said it's obvious since you acted so differently around Maverick.

"The hell are you talking about?" you play dumb and act as if it weren't true.

"Come on, Pep, you're so caught right-handed."

Looking back straight up, Maverick is across the room playing a game of pool with another naval aviator. He bends down, eyes straight and sharp as he aims for the ball to the pocket. Your eyes follow the lengths of his arms. His toned arms... your gaze just involuntarily follows the veins on his arms. Maverick then takes his shot. He hit the nail on the head, he perfectly nailed the shot. Gosh, he even makes playing pool look so hot, he makes everything look so hot.

You shake your head and palm your face. "This is getting worse, Dingle.."

"Just tell him, take your shot, Pepper," Dingle tells you.

You shake your head. The idea of telling him that you have a crush on him always makes your stomach flip. How could you? You couldn't even stare at him right in the eyes for too long.

You take a deep breath and leave a heavy sigh. "What is wrong with me?!" You ramble.

"What's wrong with you?" The voice that you're far too recognized speaks.

You reopen your eyes to find Maverick comes to you and Dingle. You widen your eyes slightly at Dingle, cursing him non-verbally to not warning you that Maverick is coming in your way.

"Something's wrong with you, Pepper? Is everything alright?" Maverick asks with concern in his eyes. He reaches out his hand to hold your arm, showing the emphaty he feels as he practically asks you whether you're okay.

"Uh... excuse me, i need to go to the toilet." Dingle says.

You quickly turn your head to him. Beg with your eyes to not leave you alone with Maverick cause god knows you couldn't comprehend it alone.

"Sir..." Dingle politely nods to Maverick before leaving us be.

Maverick looks back at you, "Uh... I'm–I'm okay, sir."

"Yeah?" Maverick skeptically wonders about your answer. Out of nowhere, an unreadable slight smirk appears on his face. "You don't really sound sure..." he smiles mischievously.

"Uh..." you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor rather than back at his green eyes. "I'm sure,"

You glance back to his face. "Thanks for checking in, though, sir." You smile then eyes away from him again. You already feel your heart thumping.

Maverick purses his lips and nods. "Okay.... okay, if you say so,"

You nod. "Well... do you want to play po—"

"I'm actually-- not really feeling okay. Maybe i had too much beer... could you excuse me, i-imma go back to base." You cut Maverick before he could've finished what he's trying to say.

You stand up from your stool, and stupidly you stumble on your own feet. Maverick's quick to catch you before you fall. You look up to his face. His face stays inches above yours. You have never been this close to him. Feels like your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

"Oohh... careful," he casually says. So casually like it means nothing to him.

You stand up straight to your own feet again. Awkwardly laugh it off. "T-thanks... um, goodnight, sir." You walk hastily out the door.

-------

"Pepper," Maverick calls you out just after you rise from your seat. You've seen this coming, especially after that near hit you did earlier.

"Do you mind staying behind? I'd like a word," he says.

You exchange a look with Dingle. But eventually you wait till the last person is out of the room, leaving you and Maverick behind. You walk up to him. "Sir?" You ask.

Maverick walks around his table and sits on the edge of it, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What happened?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together.

You look down from his intense gaze, shaking your head, "I lost control of—"

"No, I'm not asking you that," he interjects. "What. Happened?" He emphasizes the question.

"We talked about what went wrong technically. But what happened? You never step out of your game." Maverick asks solemnly calm. The way he should've been furiously mad kind of making you more nervous.

"I.... i lost focus,"

"You lost focus?" Maverick repeats, eyebrows raising.

"I.... I'm sorry, sir. I-it won't happen again,"

"Lost focus.. you jeopardize your team's safety, your RIO's life."

You look down. Embarrassed by your failure. "I know, sir. My apology."

"You lost focus.." Maverick sighs, "So where was your focus? What's so important that clouded your mind, Lieutenant?"

Beat. You feel like you're pushed to the corner, checkedmate. How can you answer that? That your mind replays the scene of last night when Maverick touches you. When his face stays inches above yours?

"Uh.... um..." you stutter.

Maverick smiles mischievously, "Cat got your tongue, Lieutenant?"

"I-it's nothing, sir."

"Nothing? I don't buy it." Maverick thinly smiles.

Maverick walks towards you slowly. "Eyes on me, Lieutenant." He orders with such authority in his voice yet still sounds soft.

You feel your palm starts sweating, heart racing.

Maverick smirks. "What got your focus..?" He asks as he walks towards you ever so softly. Making the room feels a drop temperature hotter. "Or... rather.. who?".

"I- i- uh...." You feel your lips trembling so you bite on them.

His eyes drop to witness the scene. "You.... what?" He mutter, eyes locked to your lips. That made your knees limp, you feel like you're about to pass out.

He keeps taking a step closer to you till there's no more room, and he's invading your personal space. You could feel the warmth of his breath fanning to your lips. His eyes look deeply into yours, like he's digging onto you. Your chest heaves. And the closeness of him makes you dizzy. "Y/N," his voice calls you back into reality. Maverick softly grazes his fingers over yours.

You couldn't think clearly with him in mere inches away from you. So the next thing out of your mouth just slipped before you caught yourself. "I have a crush on you." You breathlessly confess.

Maverick's smile slowly can not be attained. The way he says nothing and just smiles there sends you into an anxiety loop, so you ramble on stupid things all at once. "I- i know it's stupid. I'll–I'll get over it. I shouldn't have—" Maverick slipped his hand behind the nape of your neck and just shut you up with his lips seal to yours.

It surprises you at first but, you feel your soul leaves your body. You close your eyes and just sink into him.

Once he breaks away the kiss, your mind buzzes from the after impact of it. Reopening your eyes again, you meet the heavenly greens of his eyes and his perfect smile. "I knew," Maverick retorts softly.

"You're not so hard to read, Pepper,"

You chuckle. Feeling your cheek already burning. "This is a dream," you mutter.

Maverick grins. "Well, Y/N, tell me... can your dream feel this?" Maverick presses his lips to yours again. Hand circling around you and bring you closer to him while the other keeps holding the nape of your neck.

With your body completely pressed to his. Hands to each other's body, and tongue starts colliding in a passionate rhythm, you didn't bother to think whether this is real or not. Even if it's a dream, you want it to last because Maverick tastes like a pure ecstasy. The moment he takes a step forward, pushing you back till you find yourself presented against a table. Any moral misgivings have left the room, and both of you are hurrying to have more taste of each other. Maverick grabs your jaw, set your face aside to have access to your neck. He kisses your neck, starts soft, then gradually picks up his pace. He sucks and nibs the sensitive skin, traveling all around, finding your one spot that got you ticking.

"Maverick..." You whimper.

The exit out of this is already too far. None of you both can stop the overdriving temptation. Your fingers grip on his shoulders. The more he sucks and nibs, the more heat you feel in between your legs. You keep pulling him closer as if there's any gap left. You could feel his hard on pressing onto your center, that sends your mind even more rattling than before. You try to hold back your moans but find yourself helplessly to do so.

His hand explores all your body. Groping your breast from outside of your suit. He's moments away from unzipping your flight suit but a distraction come,  and you both hear a dim voice of the Admiral coming.

Quickly, Maverick leaps off you, just in time for Admiral Caine opening the door. Still with ragged breath, you hold onto the ledge of the table for dear life, your mind still buzzing from the pleasure seconds ago.

"Sir," Maverick stands up straight and slightly nods at the admiral. He's so unbothered as if nothing has happened just seconds ago. While you're still.... trying to compose yourself.

Admiral Caine looks at the both of you. Something must've pass his mind because you could see the skeptically in his eyes. But he knock it off and instead calls Maverick for a word.

Maverick glances at you before leaving the room without saying any words. The moment the door slams close, that's when you truly can breathe.

Dreams do always stop whenever it's getting good.

[ijwrsmff]

Strawhats x Ex Admiral Reader (Part 3)

What happens when injuries inevitably happen near the one you love? That's what this is about, reacting to an injury, but I don't describe anything in overly gorey details, but I'm still adding the warning just in case! I got a request to continue these headcanons/short stories from a good few of you, both on here and archive so I hope you enjoy :D

Getting back into the swing of things, posting regularly again, and all that~ I may not be able to post EVERY day, but I'm hoping at least 2-3 a week. If I have the time, I'll push out more but for now I'm aiming for that 2-3 ^^

Have a great day/night everyone <3

Word Count: 3,518

Luffy:

Being together had made you both happier than either thought possible

Luffy didn’t really do dates, but he made you feel special, as if every time you saw each other was a date

Singing along to Brook’s songs, sneaking into the kitchen together, playing tag even if no one else was playing

It was perfect

Though there were times you had to fight, as expected

This island seemed to be particularly swarmed with marines

Some of which you knew…they spotted you instantly and glared

That was how the fight started

They must have had hundreds stationed on this island, because no matter how many you knocked down there always seemed to be more

Luffy was close to your side, fighting with a smile on his face

He looked to you occasionally, and that was the problem

He was rushed, when he was looking right at you

You panicked, and pulled him closer to get him out of range of the attack

But it ended up slashing your arm that was around Luffy, causing blood to flood to the ground

It wasn’t a serious wound, but when Luffy realized what happened the smile disappeared from his face

He spun around and sent a flurry of punches towards the group

Within minutes the fight was over, quicker than it began

He rushed you back to the ship to see Chopper, and you tried to assure him it was no big deal

It was wrapped quickly, without even needed stitches

He stood in the room the whole time, with a complex expression

Once Chopper had left the room and you went to get back up only to be pushed back down to the bed by Luffy

“Don’t. Don’t EVER do that again.” He said, holding your hands while being careful of the scrape

“Luffy…it’s okay. It’s not that serious, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” You tried to laugh it off but you were silenced when Luffy didn’t laugh, or smile even

“That’s not the point! If someone is gonna kill me, I want you to live. You better not die before me, or I’ll bring you back! Somehow…” He used his deep thinking face, and it always looked so cute to you

Realizing he was just worried about you, you reached up to cup his face and leaned forward to give him a kiss

“It’s okay Luffy…I’m okay, and I’m not leaving your side. Not now, and not ever.” 

He pouted and said a quick “You better not!” But it made you giggle, so you both started to laugh from that

You knew you couldn’t make that promise, because you felt the same way he did

Zoro:

Fighting was practically second nature to the both of you, and you felt as if you’d both grown stronger from the sparring you did daily

You had gone to the town and Zoro PROMISED he knew where he was going

He did not, and you knew it from the start but you weren’t going to ruin his moment

Somehow you ended up near a marine base, and he looked at it confused beyond belief

“Well this isn’t the restaurant…”

It made you giggle, that only got louder when he glared at you

“It’s okay, we can always head back. I remember how we got here.” You turned, but he pulled you close harshly as a bullet nearly grazed you

“They know we’re here.” Is all he said, pulling you behind him as he took out one of his swords

You grabbed your weapon, and prepared for battle, but he looked back to you with that sadistic smile he got when he was about to fight

“They almost hurt you. You’re not going to fight a single person, got it?” His look was serious momentarily, and you just knew he was about to show off

He lunged forward towards where the bullet came from, and fought enemy after enemy while never once letting them get within several meters of you

You sighed, and put your weapon away

That was your mistake

Someone came up behind you, and you sensed them too late as they swung at you, leaving a large gash along your back

You knew better than to let out a noise, never wanting to let your enemies know they’d gotten the better of you

You took care of the marine quickly, and looked around to find Zoro, who’d already beaten every other marine there was

You were hunched over a bit, and breathing heavily

As he approached, he rushed forward to catch you as you fell

When you woke up, you were back on the Sunny with Zoro hovering over you

He looked far beyond pissed, and it caused you to sit in silence as you both stared at each other

He broke the silence first, “I SAID LET ME TAKE CARE OF IT!” He sounded angry, but you knew not at you, it didn’t stop you from yelling back

“HOW WERE YOU GOING TO DO THAT? HE CAME UP BEHIND ME! YOU WERE SO FAR AHEAD OF ME, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE T-”

He lunged forward and pulled you into a kiss that dissolved both of your arguments

You both pulled back for air and he was still glaring, but it was much softer than before

“I won’t let you get hurt again. I swear.” 

It made you smile, just a bit as you gave him the affirmation of “I know you won’t.” 

He was to be the world’s greatest swordsman after all, and you knew if he couldn’t protect you the rest of your lives…he’d die trying

Nami:

You and Nami were both beyond pissed, having been stopped by marines as you shopped on the latest island

It was supposed to be just you two, a date night, and these guys were completely ruining it

You smiled, and talked with them casually, brushing off their all too familiar concerns of “have I seen you somewhere?” But one of them realized…

Within moments there was a fight that had erupted, and you both drew your weapons

It had started so suddenly, you hadn’t even had your weapon drawn when a shot rang out, piercing your shoulder as the blood began to flow

Despite that, Nami was your main priority…just like you were hers

She widened her eyes in fear, seeing your injury as she fought beside you until the marines had been taken care of

She let out a string of curses, and you shrunk in on yourself as she continued to look over at you with a glare as she dragged you to the ship

It was quiet, with you being too scared to look at Nami from how vicious her glare was

She was probably worried you were being reckless…that the injury could have been avoided

Chopper left the infirmary not long after, and it was just you two

You eventually glanced up to see Nami’s expression, and she was…crying?

“Na-” You went to say her name, only for the words to stop as she kissed you

You could feel her tears running down her cheeks against yours, and you pulled back

“Don’t. Don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t care what I have to do, even if I have to train more, I don’t want you ever hurt like this again, okay?” She spoke, the words seemingly full of venom at the start, just to become a fragile whisper by the end

She was worried about you, and you gave her a reassuring smile as you held her hand

“Don’t worry, I won’t let it happen again. I’m sorry I scared you…” But you spoke with a smile, the same one she fell in love with in the first place

And you both shared a quiet and affectionate moment after all of the adrenaline had subsided

Usopp:

Usopp was working in overtime, the two of you were surrounded by marines, and he didn’t feel like there was a good way out  of this

You were fighting close range, and he was trying to fend off the ones around you

It was difficult to time his shots, when you were moving quickly within the swarm of marines, but he knew…he knew

He knew that ever since you got injured to protect him the first time, he’d never let it happen again

As a marine was about to strike, he leapt forward and blocked the marine’s sword with his slingshot, effectively snapping it in half and slicing into his hand

You hadn’t registered what had happened, but when you saw the blood, you grabbed him and rushed to the ship

“U-Usopp! What the hell? Are you okay?” You were panicked, and he looked just as shocked as you felt

He let out a happy laugh, “You’re okay…that’s what matters.” He gave you a thumbs up, but felt his injured hand, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” He mumbled, before clearing his throat as if he wasn’t being a huge baby in this moment

It made your eyes soften, and you held his injured hand carefully, “Thank you…I’d say don’t do that again, but I’d do it for you too…so let’s just work to protect each other as much as we can!” 

He tried clearing his throat once more, a red covering his cheeks, “Y-Yeah. We’ll protect each other. But…” Despite his blush, he teased with a hint of mischievousness, “I’ll protect you way more than you can protect me.” 

It made you both laugh, and you leaned close to him with a confident smile that made his blush spread across his cheeks and ears, “You’re on.” Was all you had said, and he gulped, knowing there wasn’t any way to beat you in this little contest…

But he’d certainly try

Sanji:

It was supposed to be a routine sweep, you and Sanji grabbing the ingredients from the island you’d need for the next few days’ food…but nothing ever really went according to plan, did it?

You and Sanji had sensed something in the air, giving a small look to each other as the tension became crystal clear

The footsteps approached you both, and when you turned with a smile, it dropped quickly

It was one of the men you’d commanded when you were an admiral…and he looked less than pleased to see you

You had frozen, and he pulled out of gun, only for Sanji to leap at him

The gun went off, but far from its intended location of your head

Instead, it hit your side, causing bursts of blood to pool from your stomach

You and Sanji had both dropped your groceries and Sanji kicked the man hard enough to fling him across the street, making a dent in the brick wall of the building

He rushed back over to you, and picked you up effortlessly to run you back to the ship

He was a mess by the time you had passed out, and was still a mess when you awoke

He was still crying, and hadn’t realized you were awake until you’d reached out to run your fingers through his hair

He leaned forward, hugging you softly “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” He muttered, and leaned into your touch as you pulled him closer

“It’s okay, I promise. It could have been a lot worse. I’m here with you, right?” You smiled, though still weak as your eyes could barely stay open

He nodded, and said “Get as much sleep as you need. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Sanji…who’s cooking?” You said, confused on how he could leave his kitchen unattended

“...I’ll leave your side briefly to make sure Luffy hasn’t eaten everything.” He groaned, but settled more into your hug, “You know what? Let him eat it all. This is more important.” 

It made your heart swell with adoration, and at the conviction in his voice, you couldn’t tell him to do otherwise

You wouldn’t have it any other way, really

Chopper:

Chopper was always the one to take care of injuries, but it made him feel vulnerable having been the one who caused it

It made him question everything, if he was really fit to be on this crew, when he watched you take a hit for him in the battle

His eyes widened, and tears welled, and he snapped to reality when he attacked the people who hurt you

You were there, laying on the ground and looking at Chopper in shock

He was attacking fiercely, and you were the one to stop him

“Hey…Chopper, buddy…” You said, trying not to startle him

He didn’t respond, so you continued, “Chopper, it’s okay, it’s okay, I promise I’m okay…” Though he didn’t stop

You finally took a hand and placed it on his shoulder

“B-But…but you g-got hurt.” He was crying, and you didn’t even realize it

He leapt into your arms, and hugged tightly, though being careful of your wounded leg

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He cried into your shoulder, and you shushed him, rubbing his back slowly

“It’s not your fault, I’ve gotten injured before, you know! It’s not that bad.” You tried to pull him back slightly but he refused to allow it, holding you as closely as he could

“But…you’re my best friend.” He sniffled, and pressed his face against your shoulder, “I was scared you’d be mad at me for letting you get hurt, and wouldn’t wanna be my best friend anymore.” 

You smiled, this time making sure you could pull him back to look at his face, “That’s never gonna happen. You’re my best friend for life, you’re stuck with me, bud.” You smiled, and rubbed his head in the way that you knew best comforted him

“Promise?” He asked, looking anxious to hear the answer

“I promise, you could never do anything to make me hate you, or not be your best friend anymore.” 

He finally smiled, and gasped as he realized “WE GOTTA GO BACK TO THE SHIP YOU’RE HURT! YOU NEED A DOCTOR!”

You laughed, and waited for him to realize

“...I’M THE DOCTOR!” 

Robin:

Things were going…poorly to say the least

You were completely surrounded, and Robin’s calm expression was grim, fearing that neither would have a chance to get out of this unharmed

You both fought hard, but accidents were bound to happen

Not only you, but she was injured

You had both taken hits for the other, and while it minimize the damage physically, you were both far too worried about each other to consider it a win

You walked back to the ship, looking defeated but concerned for the other

It was silent, neither bothering with smalltalk right now

Robin took your hand, and you both held onto each other as you walked to her room

“Are you okay?” You said simultaneously

It would have made you both laugh, but it was far more important to make sure each other was okay

Though giving a small smile, Robin started to check on your injuries, “Wait! Your injuries are worse, let me-” You went to walk towards her but she pushed you back down onto the couch

“I’ll be fine, I’m more worried about you.” She continued to inspect you, noting which injuries looked worse than the others

“But-” 

“No. I’m making sure you’re fine, first. I know that I’m fine, so let me make sure you are too.” She smiled at you softly, and spoke in the commanding kind of way that had you listen to pretty much anything she said

“Okay…” You said, and you both knew you’d folded

After a while of checking your injuries, she kissed a couple of them

You looked at her shocked, but she continued, making you give her a wide smile

“You’re really cheesy.” You said, but you loved every second of it…she knew that, too

She didn’t respond, and eventually sat next to you, so you could give her the same treatment

You’d both make sure you stayed safe, and always look out for each other

She may fight like a demon, but she was the kindest person you knew, and had her by your side through all of it

You could only hope she knew you’re the same way for her

Franky:

While he promised to never let anything hurt you, it was clear that you had the same intention

The fight reflected that, and you assessed the situation…knowing it was one of you get hurt or the other

And you weren’t about to let it be him

It wasn’t a severe injury, but he looked panicked

From then on in the fight, he couldn’t stop looking at you, hoping you were okay

You had to keep redirecting his attention to his opponents, fighting some of your own

When it hardly worked, you had to try a different tactic

“Franky! If you lose this fight I won’t kiss you for a week!” You screamed, knowing you’d kiss him anyways

Though…that certainly did the trick, and he brought his attention back to the fight as he used as much of his attention and power as he could, safely

The fight was over before you knew it, and you laughed as Franky rushed over to you and picked you up

“You were kidding…right? You wouldn’t NOT kiss me…right?” He swayed between confidence and sheepishness, and it only made you smile and look away 

“Who knows, better not get injured in any fights from now on or you’ll just have to see.” You had the hardest time keeping your laughter, especially when he gasped

“You wouldn’t dare!” He sounded completely unsure of his statement, and walked back to the ship as quick as he could

“I would if it meant you didn’t get injured again.” You laughed, and gave him a playful smile so he’d finally know you were entirely joking

He scoffed, “Don’t tease me like that! Or I’ll have to tease you even more than I already do!” He grinned, and set you down on one of the benches on the deck of the ship “You really really don’t wanna see how much I’ll tease you for this!” 

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms as you challenged him, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But if you tease more, I’ll really have to up my game and tease you more, too. Do YOU wanna see for yourself?”

He looks away, grumbling, and you both knew you’d won this “argument”

Though playful bantering kept things interesting, and neither of you would trade it for the world

Brook:

The battle started so suddenly, neither of you had anticipated just how quickly it escalated

You were panting heavily, struggling to keep Brook from getting injured while staying somewhat safe, yourself

He called out your name, and you turned too late

A harsh blow had been landed to your back and shoulder, and you passed out within moments

You had no idea how long you’d been unconscious, but the first thing you noticed was the music playing across the room from you

Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked around, seeing only Brook in the infirmary with you

“Hey…” You said, softly, causing him to halt his song ad rush over to you

He would have cried if he could have, and held your hand as softly as he was capable of with how relieved he was you had woken up

He hadn’t even spoken, when Luffy rushed into the room, “You’re up! He’s been playing the whole time you were asleep, you-” And he was halted as a hand wrapped around his mouth from his shoulder, and another pair of arms pulled him from the room

“Ah…yeah…it’s been a little while. I missed you, I was worried you wouldn’t wake back up.” He spoke softly, and ran his thumb across your hand as he held it

“How…how long?” You said, almost scared to know the answer

“...four hours.” You could have heard a pin drop across the ocean, and you were so shocked you laughed a bit

“Brook! I was so worried you were gonna say years or something!” You tried to stop laughing, but still dissolved into giggles before calming down

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon. You’re stuck with me, you know.” You said, and pulled him down so you could give him a small and reassuring kiss

“Oh! I started writing a song for when you woke up!” He said, and laughed as if to cover up how flustered he was over the situation

“...in four hours? You never cease to amaze me.” You smiled, and it made him give his signature laugh as he took a step back to play the song

He played…maybe three notes

“Is…uh…is that it? It’s beautiful!” You said, and his shoulders slooped

“I was so worried I could barely write…I never said it was done.” 

You grabbed his arm and pulled him closer again, “It’s beautiful, and I can’t wait to hear it whenever you finish it. I love you, my silly musician.” 

[m-oddinsdottir]

LAW OF SURVIVAL

the bison .ˊˎ 🦬

Charles Smith x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,384

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, references to past sex experiences, oddly soft! charles, no use of y/n, established relationship, cursing

Summary: Charles decides it’s time that you learn how to hunt but you have your reservations.

A/N: so… I’m definitely playing rdr2 again. english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me <3

Masterlist

•••

It couldn’t be so hard, right?

That’s what you had thought after being approached by a frustrated Charles, his mind hazed with concern as he had returned to camp after a few days away… And by the look in his eyes, you could tell whatever Dutch had sent him to do didn’t end well.

You knew you couldn’t say no to him at that moment, Charles was usually surrounded by a peace that he willingly shared with you calming your troubled mind immediately, so seeing him so… disturbed and concerned made you agree immediately.

‘Breathe’ His voice was like a caress against the skin of your ear, a balm against the nerves that seemed to emerge from you, resulting in a small tremble of your hands.

His hands moved up your arms, grazing against the fabric of the blouse that covered your skin as he straightened your shoulders and positioned his face close to yours to try and have a similar field of view as the one you owned. ‘Careful with your posture…’ One of his fingers moved to push the bow slightly to the side. ‘And your aim’

The small force he applied to the side of the bow made it aim directly at a deer’s head. Your breath hitched and a small frown appeared on your demeanor as you tried to steady the bow.

His fingers grazed the skin of your shoulders to soothe you as he leaned in closer to you. The warm heat of the man pressing against your side as he fixed your posture again. As you tried to keep your eyes on the prey and not on the fellow hunter close to you, your breath hitched.

‘Breathe in…’ Charles indicated as he pressed one hand against your back to help you control your breathing pattern ‘Breathe out…’

Attempting to do as he said, you copied every breath he took following with one of your own and trying to hold your breath inside the same amount of seconds he could.

But it just wasn’t in you. Even he knew that it wasn’t. Charles adored that of you, in a way, he fell for the gentleness of your soul. The way you treated everyone around you in such a kind manner warmed his heart. Sometimes, he even saw you with Jack, and his thoughts couldn’t help but wonder about how perfect you would be as a mother.

‘I… I can’t do it, Charles” You whispered when the deer moved his head upwards and it tilted to the side.

‘You need to’ His voice perhaps sounded harsher than needed as he stiffened beside you ‘An animal is always… Easier’

While holding your breath, Charles moved two fingers over the ones you had already tensing the thread of the bow. His hand hovered over yours and the contact of his skin against yours made goosebumps blossom where he landed a finger.

‘I can’t’ You repeated and when he pulled your hand backward so that you could reach the point where you couldn’t maintain the tension of the bow and would let the arrow shoot, your breath hitched and your eyes widened with surprise.

His name left your lips as a warning but when he didn’t move you quickly pushed the bow to a side. The arrow shot breaking through the wood of a pine tree. You quickly shoved him away from you, lips parting open in surprise.

‘What are you even doing, Charles?!’

His gaze followed the way the deer ran away after being startled by the loud sound of your voice and the arrow that was shot near its body. His lips pressed together in a line and he remained silent.

Not showing any visible evidence of his anger, the man took a step closer to you. His eyes were dark as Charles towered over you, he didn’t move his gaze for you for even a moment. You had seen that look in his eyes before.

Fuck.

Charles rarely got angry or at least he rarely showed any manifestation of the ire that could be burning his body from the inside out. However, there it was. That look in his eyes gave him away, a look you have seen before. But, in this case, it was directed to you.

‘Don’t look at me like that’ You managed to mutter as you tilted your head backward so that you could gaze into his eyes.

That was dumb. You realized that right after you had mumbled the words. He was never angry and now that he was… It was the moment you had decided to push his buttons?

Therefore, when he moved one hand up to cup your cheek tenderly, your lips parted open with surprise. ‘Did I startle you?’ His whispered question confused you even more.

And then it hit you. It wasn’t anger, it was fear… He was scared, terrified even.

You managed to shake your head gently as a response. ‘Good… I just want you to be able to protect yourself.’ Charles grumbled, his hand caressing your cheek gently. ‘In case…— You have to know how to survive’

Charles can’t afford to lose you. Loss has been a constant variable during his life. He can’t remember one important person for him that he hadn’t lost… Despite you. For now at least. With you, he had managed to live, not just survive… But living with you by his side and finally losing the only thing he wanted to lose: his solitude. Charles usually felt like his only purpose in life was suffering, life is usually complicated but for the man it has been even worse. He lacked life's understanding until now at least.

The lone wolf now had a pack. He had found the gang in Blackwater a few months again and with them, he had found you. Of course, you were the one who approached him first. A gentle smile over your lips to make him feel welcomed and a plate of warm stew on your hands, a small offering for him to eat something.

You had wrapped up his injured hand with some old bandages you managed to pack before running away from Blackwater. And you had constantly checked his burnt skin over that time without being invasive.

So it didn’t take him long before he found himself wrapped around your finger even though you were unaware of his feelings back then.

Until one night.

One night he had drunk more than he usually did. Another celebration of a successful mission in which they all had gathered along the fire, listening to Javier’s guitar and singing in the barely illuminated night. Voices loud and carefree. A rare moment of peace taking into consideration the times they were living.

Charles had approached you to your surprise and probably even his. He never talked to you first, it was always the other way around so when he offered you to go for a walk you couldn't deny the offer. Shy smile over your lips as you walked in silence next to him until you two were far enough.

Next thing you knew, his lips were over yours. Soon, you were whimpering his name while he was buried deep inside you, back against a tree and nails digging deep into his broad back.

‘Can't we practice with inanimate objects?’ You whispered gently leaning into the hand that was cupping your cheek, a small smile over your lips as you looked up into his eyes. ‘I know how much you hate hunting animals when there's no reason...’

The man visibly tensed in front of you. He despised any form of blood spilling, human or animal. That was the reason he had left the other gangs he had been implicated with, most of the members usually being dishonorable and just murdering for the morbid it supposed.

He did have a far more compassionate soft spot for animals, knowing they weren't able to defend themselves in most cases. Especially, for bisons. It wouldn't be the first time he had encountered problems confronting vicious killers who murdered them for sport... And it wouldn't be the last time either.

‘There is a reason... You- You need to practice with something that moves’ He mumbled as his other hand moved to your hip, seeking the warm comfort of your skin against his when he pulled you closer to his body.

‘Charles... You and I both know that an animal ain't the same as a person’ Your soft whispering seemed to soothe his tense muscles as his hand gripped the fabric of your blouse, calloused fingers digging into your skin and creating small indents.

‘It will do’

‘Teaching me how to hunt with a bow isn't teaching me to defend myself, darlin'... An arrow has nothing to do against a bullet’ Perhaps you were being harsh, but you needed him to understand. You knew him which meant you were also aware of how his worry was clouding his judgment.

‘I—’ His brows furrowed together before he leaned in closer to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as his hands moved from your hips to wrap around your body in a tight embrace, shaky breaths escaping his lips. The situation had your heart aching, Charles never lost his composure... Ever.

‘What's going on, darlin'?’ Your strained voice was perceived by his senses and so were the gentle caresses your hand delivered through his long dark locks of onyx hair, in an attempt to soothe him. At first, the only response that was received was his hold tightening around you.

His breath hitched in your ear, his nose nuzzling against the length of your neck, soon finding your pulse point. ‘I can't lose you’ He whispered shakily, his lips brushing against your skin while he spoke. ‘I can't... Not you too’ He mumbled and his body trembled slightly between your arms.

‘I ain't going anywhere, love’

‘How can you know?’ He asked back to you, lips still hovering over your pulse point. ‘The missions... Each one turns worse than the one before. We're always running away from camp to camp. You know the day in which we can't escape will eventually arrive’

You swallowed hard and he pressed a gentle kiss against your neck to soothe you when he felt the way your throat moved, Charles pulled away to be able to look into your eyes. One of his hands moved up to brush some of the hairs that framed your face behind your ear.

'’And in case I'm not there...’ He began and you immediately looked into his dark eyes. ‘If I'm not alive...’ At the thought, your eyes widened softly, head shaking as you tried to stop the stinging sensation that the tears beginning to form caused. ‘Don't go down that path, Charles’ Your words and the sight of your teary eyes made him sigh.

‘Angel...’ He whispered and you unconsciously held your breath in your lungs.

Charles usually never called you by any pet name... Unless you two were tangled in the darkness underneath the security of his tent, there the man was somehow unrecognizable.

‘I want you to keep living’ He mumbled out gently as he leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours noticing how one tear dropped down your cheek so he quickly wiped it away. You weren't dumb, you knew the dark times the gang was suffering so his words made your heart shutter... It sounded like a goodbye.

‘Don't you dare say goodbye to me, Charles’

‘Let me do it, my angel... Just in case’ He whispered gently and his lips moved to kiss the damp path another tear had left over your right cheekbone. ‘I want you to know how to survive... But not just that, I want you to live your life, get away from this life, have pretty little babies, and grow old on a small porch. I want you to die happy’

You were quick to shake your head. ‘I want that with you... I am going to die happy because you're going to be by my side. Old and wrinkly and by my side’ You repeated gently as you moved your face to gently caress your lips against his.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips making them spread over his face as you leaned in even closer. He used his thumb to wipe away another one of your tears. ‘I don't want anything else more than that' Charles assured you gently. ‘But to know that you'll still live that fantasy even if I'm not there’

‘No’

‘Please, angel...’

‘No, Charles.’ Your voice was firm as you gently held onto his arms trying to stand your ground ‘You're going to be there 'cause you ain't dying, goddamnit...’ With brows furrowed together and tears falling down your cheeks, you stepped on your tip toes to be closer to his lips. ‘I want to grow old with you, I want to have my babies with you... Maybe when this is over we can go somewhere else... I dunno, maybe to Canada’

‘Canada, huh? That sounds nice...’

‘So going to Canada sounds nice but not the idea of having a family and growing old together?’You asked teasingly trying to lighten up the mood.

That made a small and short chuckle escape his lips. Charles usually didn't laugh much so you rejoiced in the small choked sound. ‘That sounds more than nice, baby...’

He mumbled before his lips captured yours in a gentle and short kiss, tasting the saltiness of the tears that had managed to fall down to your lips before he had managed to wipe them away. The kiss wasn't passionate or hungry like the ones you two usually shared after he had spent the entire day out of camp. No, this one was tender and filled with unspoken feelings that didn't need to be put into words,

When Charles pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours still savoring the taste of your lips. ‘Now, angel... I was supposed to be teaching you a hunting lesson here’

Your laugh resonated alongside the small field in between the forest scaring away the few animals that could be left.

Definitely, hunting was that hard.

[heavenlytouches]

Erik Lehnsherr- my hero

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

GN reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

Erik saves you with his powers <3

I know his name is Max but I'm used to -Eric- TwT

Erik Lehnsherr

The midnight air was crisp and eerie, the streetlamps barely piercing the darkness that enveloped the small, empty town.

You strolled alongside Erik, the glow of distant stars reflecting in his eyes. Even in the hushed silence of the night, you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a blend of bravery and an aura that drew you in.

Erik was unique—self-conscious yet sarcastically funny, and somehow heroic without even trying. With every step, his casual jokes eased the tension of the deserted streets, making you laugh despite the chilling wind that bit at your cheeks.

An ordinary evening had turned into something enchanting, and part of you never wanted it to end.

Suddenly, a loud clang echoed down the street, shaking the stillness and causing your heart to race.

You both turned toward the source of the sound: a rusted metal sign teetering above a forgotten storefront. You barely had time to process the sinking realization when it came crashing down, aimed straight for you.

In an instinctual blur, Erik leaped forward. Time slowed as you watched him extend his hands out towards the sign, and with a flick of his wrists, the metal twisted mid-air, veering away from you and slamming harmlessly against the pavement a few feet away. Stunned, you stood frozen as he turned, breathless but steady.

“Did you just-”

You stammered, looking at the now-still sign with wide eyes.

“Eh, just a lucky catch.”

He replied with a dismissive wave, although the humor in his voice was tinged with relief. Yet, the way he brushed it off didn’t convince you.

Your heart raced not just from the near-miss but from the realization of how close you had come to disaster, your thoughts swirling as you attempted to comprehend what just happened.

“Lucky? Erik, that sign could have crushed me! You… you just moved it with your...with...”

He looked at you, an awkward smile creeping across his face.

“I don’t have a mind, just a really good reflexes.”

“Reflexes? Come on. That was amazing!”

You felt a tingling warmth spreading through you, not just from gratitude but an undeniable spark of connection.

“You saved me, Erik. You’re a hero.”

You said, a small but terrified grin on your face, your eyes widening.

“Hero?”

He chuckled, yet you saw a hint of pink creeping up in his cheeks.

“I just don’t want you to end up as a pancake. That’s not exactly my idea of a good night out.”

As the adrenaline faded, a comfortable silence replaced the previous rush. Stars twinkled overhead, and you both stood in the middle of the desolate street as if the world had paused.

“I want to know more about you...”

You finally said, words spilling out before you could think them through.

“About your powers… How do you do that?”

His gaze caught yours, and you could see a glimmer of reluctance mingled with curiosity.

“I’ll tell you everything. It might be a long story, though.”

“Perfect. I’ve got all night.”

You grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but deep down, you could feel the impending weight of his truth.

“Okay. How about this…”

Erik’s demeanor shifted, the care in his voice overriding his self-consciousness.

“Let’s make it a date—just the two of us. Tomorrow night, same time? You can ask all the questions you want then.”

You felt your heart flutter at the prospect.

“A date sounds fantastic—if you promise no more heroics.”

“I make no promises.”

He winked, and for a fleeting moment, the normality of it all felt surreal.

As you both continued your walk—slower now with a different kind of energy buzzing in the air—you felt a sense of gratitude wash over you. Not just for his powers saving you but for his courage to open up, to share his unique world with you.

The chilly night air no longer felt as empty as it once had. It was filled with possibilities, with a spark of something that was as intoxicating as it was scary.

You couldn’t help but wonder how many more hidden depths this man had—this hero who was so much more than just a power, and how he might change your world.

As you approached the edge of town, where streetlights flickered a bit brighter, Erik turned to you, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“So, do you always get nearly crushed by signs on your evening outings, or is it just an exclusive thing for us?”

You laughed, your heart racing at the thought of what more was to come.

“I hope it’s just a one-time thing.”

And in that moment, you knew this was only the beginning of something brilliant, a magnetic force pulling you together into an adventure neither could have predicted.

Well, well, Erik welcome in my Marvel universe! This was such a sweet one, idk why I love it so much TwT

I write for multy fandoms, just ask and remember, requests are always welcome!

I love you guys so much

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[lihhelsing]

Hate That I Loved You

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 ↓ | Part 6

As always, Eddie gets sucked in the shoot. After the scene with Steve is done, he needs to work on some scenes with the band and he loses track of time. This music video is important. It needs to be perfect. 

Not only because he’s putting himself out there and showing all his broken pieces to the world, but also because it could be the difference between making it and getting forgotten. 

The pressure is on, and Eddie isn’t very good at working under pressure. It makes him want to run and hide. It makes him want to disappear, andx` it takes a toll on him to stay present, attentive. 

It makes him almost forget about Steve. It makes him think Steve left, but when he’s finally done, he walks back to his dressing room so he can get rid of his make-up and maybe sleep for a week, and then, there he is. 

Steve is leaning on the wall, hands in his pockets as if this is just a casual encounter. As if this isn't about to tilt Eddie's entire world. 

 "You're here," Eddie says dumbly. In a second, Steve loses his carefree stance and stands straight, bringing one hand to the back of his neck. 

"Uh, sorry. Should I go? I thought you… You must be tired, sorry," Steve says and Eddie panics. It's not what he meant, he's just nervous. 

"No! No, stay. I'm just-"

"I should go, actually. You said later, I just thought-"

Fuck. They are both in that awkward moment where they are trying to justify what they said and Eddie is fucking getting it all wrong. Steve looks like he's about to bolt, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Steve," Eddie tries, but Steve is still saying things like he's leaving and he shouldn't have assumed and how Eddie is so busy nowadays he forgets himself.

"I'm sorry, seriously, I can go."

"Steve," Eddie says again and there's a long silence after he does. Steve is looking at him with uncertainty in his eyes, and Eddie hates himself a little more because of that. Steve had always been so sure of himself, so confident. 

When they first kissed, Eddie was a mess, completely embarrassed after admitting to having a crush on his straight friend. Steve laughed sweetly and cupped his face with his hand. 

"I really want us to talk. Will you come in with me?" Eddie gestures at his dressing room and it takes Steve a long second to answer. He nods his head and Eddie leads the way, unsure if he should say something else or not. 

Steve stays near the door, like he's afraid Eddie will ask him to leave at a short notice and Eddie tries to make this as natural as possible. Steve had gone to a couple of shows when they dated, it wasn't as fancy, but it looked a lot like this.

After a concert, all Eddie wanted to do was stay close to Steve, still unable to believe he could call him his boyfriend. When did he forget about that feeling? 

"Thanks for coming here," Eddie says when his brain fails to be useful. He watches Steve from the mirror as he looks for some cotton pads. 

"You don't need to keep thanking me. It's fine. I actually…" Steve bites his lip as if he's afraid something is going to fall off if he doesn't stop it. He looks embarrassed.

Eddie waits. 

"It's ok. You can tell me. I won't judge. Was it the money?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Eddie realizes he shouldn't have said anything. It's the wrong thing to say, as usual. 

Steve has this thing he does when he closes off. Crosses his arms in front of his body and puffs his chest as if he's inviting Eddie to fight him. Whenever they talked about Eddie's career, Steve did that. 

It's a defensive mechanism. Steve got hurt by people before. People who left him behind. Eddie, who left him behind. Fuck. 

"Sorry, it's none of my busi-"

"It's actually because I wanted to see you," Steve says so simply, like he has no idea how those words can pierce through Eddie's chest, aimed at his heart like a loaded gun. 

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He reaches for the cotton pad for something to do with his hands, but stops when he realizes he's trembling. How the hell is he fucking this up so much? 

There's this long silence and Eddie feels suffocated by it. He's afraid Steve is gonna leave and he's afraid Steve is never picking up the phone again. He needs to fix things. 

He can't let him walk away again. 

"Shit, sorry. I'm a jackass," Eddie says, hoping Steve will laugh at his self deprecating truth, but he doesn't. In reality, he knows Steve never liked when Eddie did that. 

"Maybe I should go," Steve says again, under his breath. Eddie knows he doesn't mean it. Knows he just wants the reassurance. 

"Please, stay," Eddie gives it to him. He'd give him anything to make him stay. "Can we start over? I'm just… It's not an excuse, but these past days have been very stressful and I just…"

"Can't work under pressure. I know," Steve says softly and Eddie thinks he's winning something because of the way Steve's mouth lifts, just a tiny bit. "Sure, we can start again."

There's the silence again, but it's less overwhelming this time. Steve lets his arms fall to his side, open, earnest. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have come all this way. If he didn't think things could be fixed, he wouldn't be standing here this late, watching Eddie with those hazel eyes of his. 

Eddie doesn't know how he could've ever walked away from him. Steve is this precious thing, this sweet guy who has been hurt and still finds a way to love people. Who fights for the ones he loves so fiercely when Eddie is so used to running away. 

Who let Eddie run away because he knew that was what Eddie needed, back then. Who picked up the phone and listened to his voice and thought that maybe… 

He came all the way to Eddie because of a maybe and Eddie doesn't know if he ever loved Steve more than he does right now.

He desperately needs to fix things because his brain is already moving too fast, filling in the blanks, making him want to just get up, cradle Steve's face in his hands and kiss the hell out of him. But he knows that's not what he should do. 

If he did it, if he pulled him close and kissed him, Eddie is 86% sure Steve would go along with it. He would kiss him, would hold him. He would make love to him, if Eddie asked nicely. But he would be gone in the morning and he wouldn't pick up the phone ever again because he would think Eddie just wanted him for that, a quick fuck. 

Steve always had the hardest time seeing how good he was. Always thought people saw him like that, something disposable. Eddie never did. 

So, as much as he wants that right now, because Steve is looking so gorgeous under this light, he knows he can't have it. Knows he needs to power through this, talk things out, fix things. 

Eddie takes a deep breath.

"Hey," he says, turning in his chair now to really look at him. Doesn't want to see him through glass anymore. "Thanks for coming. Can we talk?"

Steve presses his lips together, trying to fight a smile. He shakes his head as if he can't believe Eddie. 

"Hi. Yeah, we can talk."

[tatterings]

Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 9, "A Flourish of New Growth"

AO3 LINK HERE

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: Explicit (THE SMUT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR)

Tags/warnings: 18+, SEX, making out, emotional talk, frotting, top astarion, bottom halsin

Word count: 11,000

Header art by @solmesia. Proof/beta read & edited by @solmesia and @bloodlessbhaalbabe. Thanks to you both <3

“Oh Silvanus help me,” Halsin groaned as he shifted his hips. His blunt nails dug into Astarion’s hips.

A cry for his god. That would not do, not for this. The vampire almost sneered.

“Ah, ah, my darling,” Astarion tutted, his voice breathy and an octave lower than normal. He slowed his pumps just enough to pull what sounded like a sob from the larger elf’s lips.

Fic under the cut <3

“Protect my way back to you, my heart,” Halsin had said, his words’ gravitas not lost on the pale elf.

Astarion could comprehend that sensitive, druidic magic held the fragile portal open. He understood Halsin’s hesitance, his uncertainty if he could pass through, given that vampires were accursed creatures for which the gods have abandoned. What could Astarion offer the Oak Father as sacrifice, as supplication, to convince Silvanus to allow him to accompany the druid?

Astarion reeled, both from the vision of Halsin disappearing into the portal, and from the emotional hangover from being in the presence of the man who had peeled scabs from his scars and kissed them closed again. He swayed slightly in place, his eyes focusing not on the portal, but beyond it, as he stood amidst the ruckus of battle. Astarion felt sick to his stomach; that rotten bile he had felt when Halsin had rushed into battle yesterday returned. He realized now, parsing through his racing thoughts, that it was heartache. Over Halsin.

A fire bolt had struck the portal as Astarion stood frozen in place. He felt the bitterness rise to his throat as the portal flickered, threatening to close, its near-translucent light shimmering, flickering dangerously before it stabilized. His lips pulled taut to a thin line.

In a show of catlike agility, Astarion simultaneously turned on his heel from the portal and dropped to one knee and nocked an arrow in his short bow. He faced the hordes of shadow-touched monsters, and took aim at the sorcerer who had cast the firebolt. He let loose the explosive arrow and struck his mark. The creature’s robes burst into flame as it fell back several yards. Astarion sneered, fangs glinting as he watched the creature writhe in the agony it deserved for its boldness to attack the portal and Halsin’s way back to him. His partner’s way back to him.

Partner. What a strange concept; although he and Halsin had only just discussed the idea last night. The security afforded by the term had brought levity to his heart and mind he hadn’t felt in 200 years. Pure resilience had won his hard-fought survival during that time, and had been crafted by blocking up his feelings behind a wall. Each sexual, physical conquest had added another brick, and each session of torture had applied more mortar.

Astarion descended from the rock outcropping in shadow, slipping behind a cursed Harper and slitting its throat. Before the wretched creature could fall, Astarion had already moved on, slipping his dagger between the ribs of a cursed Githyanki a few yards away.He moved as an inaudible plague through the waves of enemies. His vampiric bloodlust was the embodiment of agility, of perfect stealth, of divine brutality; he was an apex predator with skills honed far beyond what nature had deigned to create.

His freedom had been won by fickle fate; not by feelings, not by begging for his freedom, pleading for any mercy from Cazador. And yet Astarion had considered, while wrapped in Halsin’s arms the last night, that the fragility of allowing himself to feel could offer a different sort of freedom. As he and Halsin had nestled their bodies in the bedroll, he had accepted the other elf’s offer of partnership. He had felt pixies flap their wings in his stomach at the idea of trusting another being with his safety.

The clothing of the slain Gith was a sufficient rag onto which he wiped the creature’s cursed blood from his blade. How odd, that he and Halsin were so tied by blood, here in these lands; Halsin’s offer of his lifeblood as nourishment had been genuine, out of concern that Astarion would starve in this place.

The druid was correct about the corrupted blood of shadow-cursed fiends. So, each night when Astarion went to feed, he fought to not also feed his own skepticism. His distrust of someone who seemed so genuine. But the druid made his dead heart feel as though it fluttered. No one prior had looked out for Astarion, said a kind thing to him. Halsin was the only one; the only one to have a bleeding, noble heart full of endless kindness. Far more benevolent and helpful than any god could ever be.

Another wave of shadow creatures appeared from the darkness; thick, thorny vines lashed out at the party, and snarls erupted from beasts half-rotted and half-burned by the ravages of the curse. More Githyanki who’d been dragged into the blackness appeared, lobbing attacks at the portal; and likely attacking his party members as well. But the vampire’s bloodlust was for those attacking the portal, and not for his friends who could stand their own ground.

Each time an arrow or spell struck the portal, Astarion felt his throat close. He had no faith in the gods to offer help; even Selûne, who arguably could have defended the portal by herself. Loathe though he was to admit it, and as much as it pushed the bile from his throat and into the back of his mouth, Astarion placed his faith in Halsin - his partner. And Halsin had placed his own faith in Astarion.

The vampire felt a fog fall over his eyes as he shot an arrow across the battlefield to fell a creature attempting to climb the rocks. He nocked another to aim and shoot at a charging, curse-ravaged dog. It lodged in the hound’s open maw and felled the creature mid-gallop. His blows were automatic, instinctual, and smooth. He was a dancer whose choreography had been honed to perfection through the symphony of fading mortal pulses. Astarion was jolted from his blood haze as the portal widened with a crackling buzz.

“It’s done!” shouted the druid Halsin, his broad shape appearing from the light. His shadow concealed most of the small body he held in his arms. The portal shrank and closed behind him with a fizz.

Astarion seemed to be made of mist as he weaved between the few foes remaining on the battlefield; he launched himself from the ground to the top of the rocks, landing on his feet with his feline grace. The rest of the party felled the remaining shadow creatures before coming to Halsin’s side.

The large druid lowered himself to a kneel, gently placing Thaniel’s small body on the cold stone. “I have him…but something is wrong,” Halsin said to Astarion, who loomed above them both. Halsin’s voice had wavered with concern. His sun-kissed face was smeared with scarlet; his hot blood dripped from a gash on his chin. Claws had been pulled across his exposed shoulders and through the armor on his chest, leaving cuts both deep and ragged, as though he had shaken a creature loose from his shoulders. On his broad cheeks and forearms, purple bruises blossomed. The druid had not healed himself while inside the Shadowfell.

His hands shook over Thaniel’s body as the boy lay limp on the stone, but only a crackle of green magic fell from his hands. Even Astarion sensed that the sort of magic afflicting Thaniel couldn’t be resolved through the efforts of a healer.

Halsin bent further to lift the fragile boy into his arms. “Thank you, all of you,” he said, his breath labored and short. “Help me bring him back to camp; something is dreadfully wrong. Some part of him is missing. He is…hollow.”

Astarion felt the bile finally rise into his mouth.

*****************

Though Halsin could have easily carried Thaniel’s limp body back to camp alone, his companions - his friends - had insisted on helping. Wyll and Lae’zel had taken the lead, torches in one hand and weapons in the other, ensuring their trek was safe. With what little magical power Shadowheart had left, she had cast minor healing spells on both Thaniel and Halsin to stop the bleeding from their deepest wounds. Karlach had held damp cloths in her hands, steam rising from the rags. She had dabbed them on Thaniel’s frigid hands and feet while they walked, trying to raise the boy’s low body temperature. Gale had held a moonlantern towards the rear, accompanied by Astarion, to ward off ambushes from behind.

The druid had walked silently with the group, the only noise having been the sizzle of steam from Karlach’s rags, the jangling of their armor, and the crunch of the pathway beneath their feet. Each adventurer had been exhausted, body and soul, and eager to return to their bedrolls. Had the arch druid truly known how fiercely the darkness would fight back, he would have called upon Jaheira and the Harpers for aid.

When the group had returned to camp, Halsin could assess Thaniel’s condition - there was nothing any of them could do to help him this night. They could search for an answer in the morning. Lae’zel had not waited long after Halsin’s explanation to trudge to her bedroll. Gale had left soon after staking the moonlantern in the soil by Halsin’s tent. Shadowheart, once she had confirmed that Halsin did not need her help, had also retired to bed; the druid had heard her flop onto the ground, armor and all, in a dull clunk. Despite his insistence, Karlach had stuck to the Halsin’s side as he examined Thaniel. After being reassured that she could not offer any aid in her current battle-worn state, the Tiefling had accepted Halsin’s order to go to sleep. Before Wyll had stumbled to bed, he had set up a small tent for Thaniel right beside Halsin’s, under the direction of Astarion - “A little to the left, darling, give them some breathing room”. Scratch had settled inside the tent, curling beside Thaniel’s cool body and resting his head on the boy’s chest.

Astarion had left Halsin’s side last. He offered no comment as the druid examined Thaniel; he sat in silence beside Halsin, cleaning out the underside of his sharp fingernails with his dagger. The arch druid appreciated his company, but guilt racked him when he observed the grime and blood crusted spatters on Astarion’s face.

“Please Astarion, go and rest. Do not stay here for my sake,” Halsin said, placing a hand on the vampire’s thigh. “I will hold vigil for a while longer, then you are welcome to visit with me. Although I cannot offer my blood,” Halsin met Astarion’s eyes with a meek smile, “I shed much of it in the Shadowfell.” The vampire only shrugged in response and nodded at his words, before he slipped away to his own tent with a soft, “As you wish.”

Halsin had since left Thaniel under the watchful eye of Scratch, whose tail flopped gently when Halsin had patted his head before leaving. He sat alone in his tent, fluffing the pillows into a pile to prepare for his trance.

But the crunch of gravel and the sound of someone gently clearing their throat caught his attention. “Knock knock, darling,” chirped a soft voice in a faux-whisper. Astarion lifted the tent flap, his curls brushing along the top as he entered. The vampire had taken the time to clean himself and change into his comfortable camp clothes. In his arms he held a small burgundy velveteen pouch, pulled closed with a golden string.

Halsin’s arms and legs felt as though they were weighed down with bricks. He ached from physical and emotional exertion and his injuries. He wished nothing more than to lie down, but as Astarion entered his tent, he felt as though he had downed a gallon of the most energizing tea. The sight of his partner pulled a wide smile to Halsin’s face and a warmth to his chest. He shifted to lean against the pillows and patted on the bedroll beside him.

“My heart, I am overjoyed you joined me tonight. Despite the lack of blood for you this evening,” Halsin said sincerely as Astarion settled beside him. He was always enamored by the vampire’s graceful composure when he was not caught off-guard; and as equally enamored by his awkward, less-planned out nature when he was not wearing his aloof mask.

“Oh come now, surely you don’t think I like you for just your blood?” Astarion asked, with a playful smirk, his quip an obvious joke to divert attention. “I do quite enjoy your body heat, too.” The vampire leaned against Halsin’s shoulder for emphasis and squeezed his pectoral muscle. Halsin jerked in response; Astarion’s slender fingers had accidentally pressed on one of his wounds. His brows furrowed in pain, but no anger formed inside him; it was a simple mistake. And yet, at Halsin’s severe expression, the vampire seemed to shrink beside him. His slender fingers dug into the bedroll. Halsin’s chest now hurt for more than one reason - his partner’s hypervigilance.

“Ah, I will survive Astarion,” Halsin said softly, placing his palm on top of Astarion’s hand, “I just ache all over; a minor inconvenience. Nothing to worry about.” Astarion’s shoulders seemed to relax. The vampire’s gaze darted to the pouch he had placed in his lap.

“So what did you bring, my heart?” Halsin said, his voice taking on an effervescent cadence, “I suppose it’s not honey to drizzle on my neck this evening?” He said with a chuckle, squeezing Astarion’s hand lightly.

A smile crept onto Astarion’s face and he shook his head at the lighthearted jest. His gorgeous curls bounced around his ears, which flushed slightly at Halsin’s teasing. The light from the lantern inside his tent cast a golden halo around Astarion’s white curls, making him seem ethereal, even more unnaturally beautiful. Halsin’s thumb rubbed against his delicate hand, and the druid’s heart skipped a beat when Astarion squeezed back.

“Well, let’s be honest with ourselves, Halsin,” Astarion started, his voice sharp, but ringing with humor. “You’re an exceptional healer, but I believe you have the humility to admit you’re in a rather pitiful state at the moment.” His teasing sent another chuckle to Halsin’s lips. He found Astarion’s sass endearing nearly every time, and frustrating only occasionally.

The vampire continued, pulling his hand from Halsin’s grasp to gesticulate as he spoke. “And, with Shadowheart equally exhausted, I thought I would be kind enough to offer my skills before an infection sets up in…all of that,” the vampire drawled, waving his hand at the wounds on Halsin’s chest and shoulder.

Halsin shrugged, then winced at the movement as it pulled on his wounds. “I did not want to consume the precious few healing potions we have left,” Halsin said with a defeated sigh, “Especially for wounds which I should have easily avoided.” The druid chuckled slightly and tilted his head to Astarion. “I hoped they’d serve as a reminder to take some lessons in agility from you once I healed.”

Astarion’s face flushed slightly, his lips pursing together in a smirk, then curving downward into an exaggerated scowl. “Here you are again being a self-sacrificial, stubborn old bear,” he said, landing a gentle, affectionate swat on Halsin’s biceps. “With all the rot about this place, it’s foolish to leave your cuts open to fester. But fortunately for you, I won’t let you do anything too foolish. I’m quite skilled with a needle and thread. I can suture the worst of your wounds shut for now.” His shoulders rose almost to his ears; the vampire was clearly more frustrated than his jokes let on.

Halsin’s head fell slightly, eyes dropping to the tent floor. He had already loosened his hair from his ponytail; his thick auburn locks fell into his face. “Again, you demonstrate your wisdom, my heart,” he said with a sigh. The druid tilted his head to look into Astarion’s eyes. “Kagha once accused me of being a sheep in bear’s clothing,” Halsin admitted with a bitter laugh. “And perhaps she is right. Perhaps my wild shape should be a sheep. Or perhaps a wild ass.” The druid smiled at Astarion, who let out a genuine laugh. It was soft, melodic, like a wind chime in a spring breeze.

“I would choose the latter of those two,” Astarion said with a wry grin, “Donkeys are nasty little creatures; they don’t ask before they bite.” The vampire leaned in to tuck loose hairs behind Halsin’s ear. “And you’re as stubborn a wild ass.” He got quiet for a moment, his ruby eyes studying Halsin’s face. “I wish you’d develop a harder heart. Shall I go seek Dammon to see what he could forge for you?”

It was Halsin’s turn to laugh, and his chuckle burst from his lips. The vampire continued as Halsin’s laughter died down. “I jest, of course, but you do need some mending, Halsin,” Astarion said, his jovial tone becoming intensely somber. “Now, do you want to stall more or may I stab you now?” The vampire grinned, patting his sack of needle and thread.

Halsin chuckled again, nodding his head. His ear still tingled where Astarion had brushed it when he tucked his hair back. “I place myself in your skilled hands,” Halsin replied with confidence. Astarion was far kinder than he let on, and the druid’s fondness for the vampire seemed to grow each day. Astarion was perhaps rough around the edges, but his heart was pure diamond, despite his insistence that his soul and heart were black as coal.

The druid unfastened the buttons on his vest, wincing as he slid the material from his shoulders. He glanced at the wounds on his chest - three of them oozed blood despite the battle being over hours ago. They would likely leave marks too, joining Halsin’s other scars that told the story of his life. But these would be special to him; they would bear evidence of both his success in retrieving Thaniel, and be markers of Astarion’s caring touch. Halsin took a deep breath and shifted to a cross-legged position, facing his partner.

The vampire averted his eyes back to the pouch of embroidery materials and busied his hands with preparing his tools. Astarion held the needle over the lantern flame, sterilizing the instrument. It grew red-hot before Astarion shook it to cool it. He slipped a thread of embroidery floss through the eye.

The vampire studied Halsin under half-lidded eyes, an unspoken question between them. Halsin nodded in response and patted his lap. The slender elf shifted to nestle in the hole between Halsin’s crossed legs. They sat, chests touching; Halsin’s hot-to-the-touch, fully-haired chest to Astarion’s clothed, cooler one. The vampire settled his knees at each side of Halsin’s ribcage.

Halsin did not shift nor speak; he did not want to break the vampire’s concentration. Astarion’s eyebrows were knit together in concentration, his lower lip pressed firmly underneath his fangs. The druid focused on his breathing; he knew tensing up would only increase the pain. His focus was steady, and as the needle punctured his skin for the first time, he reacted only with a slow exhale of his breath.

Astarion’s cool fingers nimbly pulled the thread taught, crossing to the other side of the wound to place the needle once more. Again, Halsin tried to focus on his breath, but the beautiful man in his lap, whose face contorted into a grimace as he treated Halsin’s wounds, was a wonderful distraction. Astarion finished his stitches on the first wound and dug for scissors in his pouch to cut and tie it off. Halsin peered down at the vampire perched in his lap.

“Thank you, for your kindness, Astarion,” Halsin said, smiling into Astarion’s curls as he pecked a kiss onto the vampire’s head. Astarion seemed to lean into his kiss, like a cat leaning in for a scratch of its chin. The druid could cover the pale elf’s body in kisses and it still would not be enough.

Astarion’s head shot up, one brow raised upwards. “Well, don’t get used to it, Halsin,” he said, his lips in a pout. “I learn from the lessons of others - look what kindness has gotten you.” He pierced Halsin’s sun-kissed skin with the needle to start sutures on the second deep wound. Halsin grunted at the pain; he hadn’t been prepared.

The druid closed his eyes, steadying it once more. “Astarion, I…want to say that I am deeply sorry,” Halsin said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. The pale elf paused, needle in hand, to meet Halsin’s eyes. “I will never again endanger you like I did at the portal. I care far too much for you to have you risk your own life along with mine.” The druid made out the concern in Astarion’s eyes; it wasn’t evident in any tears, but in the way the ruby eyes softened and rounded. The vampire’s shoulders lowered from his ears, and his hand fell slightly, needle still in his fingers; it was clear that he was not used to hearing apologies.

Halsin continued, bringing one of his hands to rub the tense muscles at the base of Astarion’s skull. “Thankfully, I have a brilliant partner whose sense of self-preservation is leagues stronger than my own,” the druid said with a chuckle, causing Astarion to jostle in his lap slightly. He placed his other large hand on the small of Astarion’s back. “And perhaps he could help me become more moderate in my foolishness?”

Halsin’s stomach flipped at the hint of a smile that began to form on Astarion’s plump pink lips. The druid couldn’t resist pulling gently at the smaller elf’s earlobe with his finger and thumb, before he bent forward to place a kiss on it.

“Oh my dear Halsin, you forgot to mention one thing,” Astarion said, holding up a finger. Halsin tilted his head in confusion as he pulled away. “I’m your brilliant, beautiful partner. Who fortunately knows his way around a needle and thread in the interim until his oaf of a druid learns to not let himself get carried away.” Astarion’s smile became genuine, tiny crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “But I still have some more work to do, so hold still.”

Halsin laughed heartily at Astarion’s words, and finally settled down, leaning back against the pillows again. The druid felt the affection in his heart grow hot, spreading through his body and down to his groin. Despite that their touch wasn’t sexual, Halsin felt himself swell at the thought of his future with this clever, beautiful man. He tried to shift nonchalantly, delicately, so that Astarion would not feel the erection beneath him.

“So, Astarion, where did you learn your embroidery skills?” Halsin asked, a deflection to distract from his attempts to rid himself of his hardness. Astarion’s hands paused above Halsin’s flesh and he exhaled in a sigh. His cool breath on the wound brought chill bumps to Halsin’s skin. The smaller elf’s body stiffened in his lap; the druid felt ashamed of once again finding a sensitive topic of conversation.

“To make a 200-year-long story mercifully short,” Astarion said, his lilt flowing in the blithe manner he adopted when he begrudgingly discussed the past, “Cazador was a penny-pinching bastard; we were rarely, if ever, given new clothing. I’ve mended my wardrobe more times than I can count. What I couldn’t mend, I had to steal.” His expression was severe; the contrast of the deep shadows and the light of the lantern stressed the creases on his face.

Halsin listened soberly to Astarion’s voice, wincing as the needle pierced his flesh and the thread pulled through. The slight swish of the thread, the crackle of the lantern’s wick, and his own occasional grunts were the only sounds heard in the seclusion of Halsin’s tent. He cradled the back of Astarion’s neck, but held his hands still; Halsin knew this was a time to provide shelter for the vampire, as strong and stoic as the stones of the Grove.

Astarion continued, bending closer to examine Halsin’s chest; his head blocked the direct light from the lamp. The vampire’s cool breath ruffled the curly hair on Halsin’s chest. “The tailoring skills were as helpful for mending rips and tears as they were for cuts and scrapes, which occurred occasionally when our…guests were less than willing to come with us. We would pickpocket thread and needle for both purposes.”

Astarion quieted again, tying off the last of his stitches. Halsin fought the growl forming in his gut as he ruminated on how the sadistic bastard would send his spawns on missions without the most basic necessities. The vampire lord did far worse than that far more regularly, as far as the druid could guess. Astarion’s mannerisms spoke volumes of Cazador’s cruelties, and it made Halsin’s heart ache as much as his body currently did.

Astarion’s lips pursed as he leaned back to observe his handiwork. Halsin’s hand darted out behind him, wrapping around the smaller elf to brace his lower back. As his calloused hands brushed against Astarion’s finely-mended shirt, he felt the vampire shiver slightly. His ruby eyes darted across Halsin’s shoulders and chest. The druid had found himself lost in those eyes dozens of times or more. Halsin followed his gaze.

As he studied the sutures, which started on his collarbone and ended nearly at his nipple, Halsin became increasingly impressed. Despite a red crust forming along the edges of the wounds, thick blood still oozed around the stitching of the deepest wound. Overall though, the thread pattern was tidy and careful, yet also functional. Indicative of immense care put into their creation. Halsin felt heat rush to his face and, much to his embarrassment, his groin again.

“I will give ample credit where it is due, Astarion. Your stitches are both more functional and prettier than any I could have managed myself,” he said with a wry grin. “Relying too much on the Oak Father’s blessed magic instead of practical skills has its repercussions, it seems. Thank you, my heart, for spending the evening with me, and for your skill with needle and thread.”

Halsin beamed at the vampire, his white smile shining brightly against his tanned skin in the lantern light. Astarion peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, his eyelashes fluttering on unusually flushed cheeks. The vampire seemed proud of himself, but had apparently decided not to gloat. His delicate hands had already set down the needle and thread, and hovered slightly above Halsin’s torso, brushing against the thick chest hair.

The druid met his eyes, his stomach fluttering with affection for the other man. Words alone were not enough of a show of appreciation. One large hand pressed against Astarion’s lower back to hold the smaller elf against his torso; the other tangled in Astarion’s curls. Halsin placed tender kisses along his brow. “I care for you so much, Astarion,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the pale elf’s ear.

Halsin exhaled slightly as he felt Astarion’s tented pants poke into his own erection. Then he felt resistance from Astarion shifting slightly. The druid banished the thoughts. He released his grip on the small elf; both hands still supported his back. The shadow cursed lands were typically chilly; but at this moment, Halsin felt as though he were in a sauna.

“You’re very sweet Halsin, thank you,” Astarion said, ears nearly as red as his eyes. “But, I’m not quite finished, if you’ll humor an idea.” The elf leaned back into Halsin’s hands, shifting his hips as though Halsin’s hands were pressing a pressure point. The druid rubbed the point with tenderness, delighting in the fluttering of Astarion’s pale eyelashes as he helped the vampire release the knot.

Astarion seemed to lose himself for a moment before he blinked quickly and returned to the moment. “How familiar are you with, erm,” Astarion started, pulling one hand from Halsin’s chest to tap his chin with a slender finger, “the properties of vampire saliva?”

Halsin’s hazel eyes went round, one thick brow arching upward. “I must say I am unfamiliar with it. Although, I did notice that the bite wounds from your feedings seem to heal quickly,” the druid admitted.

Astarion tilted his head back, studying Halsin through his eyelashes. “Of course you noticed, you’re an erudite man. In essence, the saliva has clotting properties to help seal the wound once we’ve gotten our fill.” The pale elf’s hand dropped back to Halsin’s chest as the vampire’s plush lips pulled into a taut line. “Or, they can help our own wounds heal faster. Cazador…never provided healing salves or potions. If we could not steal them, we were left to lick our wounds like dogs.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

The druid felt his fingers curl into Astarion’s back muscles; he intentionally loosened his jaw, else he would risk breaking a tooth with how hard he clenched his teeth together. He inhaled deeply. “I’m so sorry, Astarion,” he said, trailing his fingers up and down the smaller elf’s back. He felt chill bumps rise even through Astarion’s shirt, as well as what felt like ridges of scars. Halsin felt his pupils dilate and a growl form in his throat. If that bastard whipped him, I will rip out his throat myself, he thought.

“The past is the past,” Astarion said flippantly, waving his hand between their bodies. “I only brought it up to offer the same to you. There is one cut in particular that could benefit from my attention.” He dropped his finger to point at the longest laceration. It still oozed slightly.

Halsin exhaled, releasing his anger at Cazador along with his breath. “That would be most appreciated, my heart,” Halsin said, wise enough to know it would be unwise to ask for more details.

“Well then, lie back darling. It’ll be easiest that way,” Astarion said with a coquettish smile, exaggerating the risque potential in the situation. He gently pushed against Halsin’s broad pectoral muscles; the druid reclined against the pillows behind him.

*****************

If Astarion’s heart could beat, it would have thumped from his chest. Instead, he felt pressure there nearly as firm as the ache in his groin, which he had successfully ignored while closing Halsin’s wounds. How odd it was, to feel himself grow hard during a non-sexual act; he thought at the time it was the innuendo implied by piercing Halsin’s flesh. But as he saw the result of Halsin’s wounds cleaned and closed by his own hand, Astarion realized he had become aroused by simply caring for the man. After Halsin had returned through the portal, Astarion’s gut had twisted at the sight of Halsin’s flesh; his life blood had wept from the ragged wounds.

He had immediately felt a gnawing urge to help Halsin, and had cursed himself for carrying no spare healing potions. Astarion understood how it felt to be compelled by another; Cazador’s orders made his body obey as if they were his own desires. But as the vampire had gently tended to Halsin, he felt just as compelled to protect this man, to touch him, to feel the druid’s body against his own. But this urge was a choice; a desire.

It was an intoxicant that both rattled Astarion’s nerves and sent heat to his groin. Astarion settled his hands on either side of the druid’s torso, unable to resist sliding his fingernails along the ridges of his ribcage. It slightly unnerved him to see his own fingers tremble as they explored Halsin’s body. The vampire lowered his mouth to the start of the gash, along the large elf’s collarbone. Halsin’s large chest twitched at the sudden cold of his tongue.

Halsin’s torso arched upward as Astarion dragged his tongue along the claw wound. He lapped down from his shoulder to his collarbone; the stitches were rough against Astarion’s tongue. They were far more precise and careful than those he had ever done for Dalyria; and certainly those he had stabbed into Petras. On Halsin, his sutures were delicate patterns, beautiful even amongst the angry, red skin surrounding the threads. The wounds had dried almost instantaneously behind where his tongue had been. The druid’s body shivered from how the chilly saliva dampened his chest hair.

The druid seemed restless underneath him; Halsin’s hands trailed up Astarion’s spine, rubbing circles into the vampire’s muscles with his thumbs. Astarion nearly bit his tongue as he resisted arching his back in response. Halsin always seemed to find exactly where his muscles had knotted, and his practiced fingertips always loosened his tension. The pale elf could not recall a time in which he had touched Halsin and did not leave his arms feeling giddy. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

He lapped his tongue lower onto Halsin’s broad chest, curling the tip of his tongue as he licked. The druid writhed beneath him, similar to how he had during times Astarion had fed from him. The vampire wasn’t sure how long he had been lapping at the druid’s body, but he was sure that he enjoyed it. Feeling the much larger man wriggle beneath him at only the slightest flick of his tongue, made Astarion’s head spin with pleasure.

Astarion wanted to see more. To do more. To watch Halsin lose his composure at his masterful touch. He traced his tongue lower along the druid’s chest, far past where the wounds were, onto his undamaged flesh. His ministrations pulled a whistling hiss from Halsin. The druid’s hands had stopped wandering, and had settled on Astarion’s hips, fingertips gripping tightly.

Halsin lowered his chin to make eye contact again with Astarion. The druid had crescent indentions in the soft skin of his lower lip; he had been biting them as Astarion tasted his skin and his blood. Halsin lifted his hips into Astarion, the full weight of the vampire on top of him.

Astarion’s face flushed as he felt the solid, thick bulge of Halsin’s cock throbbing beneath his own. Halsin’s hands shook as he raised them to rest on Astarion’s ass, the tips of his fingers kneading on his skin. The vampire’s leather trousers became tighter in response. The druid’s heady expression, his lips parted and strands of hair stuck to his forehead, sent another pulse of need to his groin and a storm of anxiety to his mind.

Even with all the wounds, Halsin was a stunningly handsome elf. Astarion tilted his head, ruby eyes scanning the druid’s body; perhaps the wounds made him more handsome - the evidence of his intimidating nature in battle. It sent another pulse of need to his cock, which he automatically pressed against Halsin’s with a roll of his hips. The druid’s erection twitched in response.

He is exquisite, Astarion thought. He wanted to touch Halsin everywhere; watch his face contort in ecstasy, hear his pleasured whispers. As his mind swam with thoughts, he realized how deeply he desired Halsin, in more ways than they had previously experienced. Astarion longed to drown in Halsin like a cleric of Umberlee in the ocean, to be reborn again.

The idea of ceding control to the druid was an alarming yet terribly delicious concept. An urge that made the vampire roll his hips against Halsin’s swollen arousal. A whine escaped his plump lips at the friction. Halsin’s hands tightened on his ass cheeks, pulling at him from above. The druid’s mouth parted in a ragged exhale.

“Thank you, for caring for me, my heart,” Halsin said, his voice breathy, his hands quivering against Astarion’s muscled rear for a mere moment. Halsin’s shaky fingers soon lifted to rest against each side of Astarion’s face. One thumb brushed lightly over the vampire’s bottom lip. The other tucked a stray curl behind his red-flushed ear.

“For more than just the stitches…Thank you for also being by my side through all of this,” the druid said, his voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “And I also forgot to thank you for the kiss…at the portal.”

Astarion’s chin dipped down, Halsin’s eye contact becoming too much to bear. He felt his cheeks become warm from both blushing and the soft caress of the druid’s thumbs. “I…thank you, too. I rather liked it,” he started, before raising his gaze back to Halsin, “Although I would have preferred it to not have felt like it was our last kiss.”

Halsin chuckled heartily, bobbing Astarion up and down on his barrel chest. “Then may I make it up to you, my heart?” he asked gently, his fingers carding through Astarion’s curls. The druid’s honey eyes seemed to have misted over. Astarion’s brows furrowed as he tried to study them closer; was Halsin fighting back tears? “I would like to taste your lips. I want to kiss you with the reverence that you so truly deserve.”

Astarion felt faint, overwhelmed by all that was the arch druid Halsin: his amorous words, tender eyes, and now his strong arms, which had shifted to the pale elf’s back to embrace him once more. This feeling, whatever it was - infatuation, desire, lust - made the vampire anxious.

Astarion settled down, calming himself by meeting the gentle gaze of his partner, before nodding slightly. His lips parting without uttering a word as he lowered his face to Halsin’s, capturing the druid’s mouth in a kiss. Halsin’s lips felt like fire against the coolness of his own. Astarion traced his tongue along Halsin’s bottom lip, over the scars that lingered there.

Halsin returned the kiss greedily before his lips flittered along the vampire’s jawbone, down to his angular chin. His blunt teeth nibbled at the tender underside of Astarion’s neck before his wide, hot tongue pulled across the pale elf’s throat. Astarion felt as though he were molasses under Halsin’s ministrations; he felt himself melting in his mouth. Halsin lapped at the circular divots scarred on Astarion’s neck, suckling the ivory skin to raise a bouquet of blossoming bruises to its surface.

Astarion felt as though he had spent the night drinking; his head spun as he groaned at Halsin’s love bites, and his hips seemed to act of their own accord, pressing into Halsin’s. The friction made him feel as though he were going mad with desire, and he blinked away the stars with a sultry whine.

And yet, Astarion’s hands trembled as they pressed against the undamaged patches of skin on Halsin’s chest. Astarion’ couldn’t fight the rigidity that formed in his entire body. Halsin pulled away from Astarion’s mouth as soon as he felt the pale elf’s jaw quivering in his kiss.

“I…it seems like you want this,” Halsin panted, nearly out of breath. He placed his arms under Astarion’s, embracing him gently. “But I sense your hesitance. I do not wish to make love to the phantom of the person for whom I care most. I can abstain, Astarion.”

Halsin gently kissed the curls that stuck to the vampire’s sweat-covered brow and placed his forehead against Astarion’s. The druid inhaled and exhaled slowly, his hot breath blowing on the sweat beaded on Astarion’s neck and his damp shirt. The pale elf shivered at the contrasting temperatures of Halsin’s scorching embrace against his own undeath.

Astarion blinked quickly, squinting his eyes to hold back the wetness forming in them. For centuries he hated the idea of anyone touching him, and the sensation of touching anyone else. But as Halsin had disappeared into the portal, Astarion had felt a ravenous rot of anguish and grief twist his soul. He could have lost Halsin. Astarion himself could have been killed, whilst defending the druid at that bloody portal. Since then, the vampire had been brooding over the concept of his own mortality. At any moment, Cazador could capture and kill him, or his body could twist into a mind flayer.

Fate had never been kind to him, but could he accept its cruelty once more, by not chasing the opportunity for a genuine connection? For true intimacy? Astarion clenched his fingers, digging his nails into his palms, as if he could crush the life out of the anxieties that taunted him. He wanted to touch Halsin; More than anything in Faerun and the heavens and hells, save his own freedom. Whatever was left of his soul ached to feel something with the handsome, gentle wood elf. Did I not just spend a morning fighting for just that - my freedom to be intimate with my own partner?

Astarion broke eye contact with the druid as his fear lurched in his stomach and clawed at his chest. It sneered at his hope, insisting that the druid’s soft-spoken proclamations of dedication were falsehoods. Merely surface-level lies that were a roundabout means of possessing Astarion’s beautiful body.

The vampire did not want to believe it. Astarion brought his ruby eyes back to Halsin’s. Do I not deserve, at long last, to experience pleasure? Kindness? With someone who is interested in me, as a person…or at least someone who claims to be? Astarion felt as though he were drowning in his thoughts as he scanned Halsin’s face, searching for answers, for a life preserver to which he could cling. He desperately wanted to believe that Halsin was everything that he had shown himself to be. The vampire’s tongue could not form words, so instead he ran it across the pointed tips of his fangs.

As Astarion had sat silently, lost in his thoughts, Halsin remained patient; he did not push him to speak The large elf sat quietly and raised his hand from the small of Astarion’s back to his shoulders. Halsin rubbed the calloused pads of his fingers on Astarion’s back muscles, which felt tense from pulling his short bow.

A sigh fell from Astarion’s lips at Halsin’s warmth and tenderness.

“Halsin, I,” Astarion began, swallowing thickly, “I was…distraught at the idea of losing you today.” The large druid tilted his head, gazing at Astarion with eyes that had misted over slightly. Halsin inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, circling his thumbs now on the muscles under Astarion’s shoulder blades.

“I can’t…I can’t go another day without having explored…you. Us. And what we can experience together.” Astarion’s words were clumsy, stammering. He spoke quickly, as if he were afraid he would forget his words. “But it is still a challenge for me. To let go,” the vampire admitted, dropping his sight away from Halsin’s eyes.

Astarion jumped in surprise as his head and torso were pulled against Halsin’s chest, his cheek tickled by the druid’s thick chest hair. Halsin’s heartbeat was loud, steady, and comforting. The pale elf closed his eyes and felt his muscles loosen slightly in Halsin’s embrace. The druid’s fingers slid along his porcelain neck, up into his curls, gently trailing along his scalp. It brought goosebumps to his skin.

As Halsin prepared to speak, the vampire felt his words vibrate in his chest before they escaped his lips. “You do not have to let go,” Halsin said, placing a kiss on the smaller elf’s curls. Astarion’s arms wrapped around the larger elf.

“I have been in many situations that robbed me of my control,” Halsin continued, his rumbling voice soothing Astarion with its soft vibrations. “And those were frustrating and uncomfortable enough. I cannot imagine how 200 years of that would feel; besides perhaps the anguish of all of Nature’s most wrathful storms converging all at once.”

Halsin’s cock twitched as Astarion nuzzled into the soft skin under his chin. “But Astarion, please know that I want nothing more than to be your safe harbor in those storms,” the druid said, seeming to push his own desires aside. Halsin placed a curled finger under Astarion’s chin and pulled the vampire’s face up to meet his. A sweet smile crinkled the druid’s crow’s feet. Astarion’s blood-moon eyes went soft, attempting to memorize every wrinkle, scar, and eyelash on Halsin’s handsome face.

“Astarion, I care for you beyond reckoning. I want you for more than your body… more than your battle prowess, or your companionship by the campfire,” Halsin said, his deep voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “I want to lie with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin blinked away the wetness in his eyes and raised the pad of his thumb to Astarion’s cheek. “Whether our intimacy is in sex, or in another equally magnificent form…I just want to be with you. I just want to be yours, and for you to be mine.”

The pale elf felt his lips part, and a weight lifted from his lungs. He swallowed deeply, his throat bobbing as he choked back tears that verged on breaking loose. Halsin’s heartbeat thumped forcefully against his palms, as steady and reliable as the druid himself. Astarion’s mouth closed and opened several times before he could form words.

His eyes drifted from Halsin’s, down to the druid’s thin lips. Halsin’s lips, his face, and his entire body were scarred with battles in which he’d always been on the side of good, the side of kindness. The druid seemed to be a fount of kindness itself, overflowing to pour steadily into Astarion’s empty, broken cup.

“I…want that too, Halsin. I want you. I want us. I want this,” Astarion said, his breath shaking as he spoke. He leaned towards the druid’s face, his open mouth placing a gentle kiss on Halsin’s. The pale elf placed another, capturing Halsin’s lower lip in his; the druid moaned in response, squeezing a fistful of his white curls.

Astarion could wait no longer. He laid claim to the scorching heat of Halsin’s mouth, of his tongue. He nipped at Halsin’s top lip, then the bottom, tugging gently at it between his sharp fangs as he pulled away. Halsin’s mouth followed Astarion and captured his lips in another kiss, deepening it, tasting the vampire’s tongue, slightly coppery, before pulling away.

Halsin beamed at Astarion, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “It stirs my heart to hear you say that, Astarion. I would like all of that very much. But…I want you to have control over our intimacy. For as long as you need, until you are comfortable in sharing that opportunity with me,” Halsin said, his eyes glowing golden, shining at Astarion in the dim light of the tent like a cat’s eyes lit by a torch. Astarion nodded weakly, perceptible to Halsin only because of the gentle grip his fingers had found in the pale elf’s hair.

“So if you’ll have me,” the druid continued, his voice almost a growl, “I am at the mercy of your touch.” The sparkle of Halsin’s amber eyes outshone the stars as he maintained Astarion’s gaze. Astarion’s hands wrapped around Halsin’s bare waist, fingers curling into the druid’s hips, anchoring himself to the bliss of this reality.

“I would like that,” Astarion replied, a shyness in his voice that even he wasn’t prepared to hear. His lips curved into a smirk, his fangs flashing in the lamplight. He placed another needy kiss on Halsin’s lips and leaned forward, sliding his hands along Halsin’s skin, raking his fingers through the chest hair. The vampire marveled at how perky Halsin’s nipple was as his finger brushed against it. He felt his mouth water.

The pale elf pulled away, peering at Halsin through half-lidded eyes as his finger tweaked at the druid’s nipple. Halsin’s teeth had captured his bottom lip, as if he were holding himself back from ravishing Astarion. The vampire bent slightly and lowered his face to Halsin’s chest.

The druid did not protest as Astarion swirled his tongue around the pert, peachy flesh; he only threw his head back, his lips parting with a pleasured sigh. A smile crept to the corners of the vampire’s mouth. He pulled tenderly at Halsin’s nipple with his blunt front teeth, drawing a hiss from the druid. The vampire exhaled onto Halsin’s nipple, his cool breath making it somehow even harder.

Halsin hands were chaste, merely holding Astarion firmly in his lap; the druid otherwise seemed content, enthralled even, to be toyed with at Astarion’s whim. The vampire needed more. He needed to see what Halsin would do under his masterful touch.

He rolled his hips into Halsin’s, grinding their erections together through their clothes. The druid’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the delicious friction, which pulled a lustful moan from both men. Halsin’s hands drifted from Astarion’s thighs to his hips, slipping under Astarion’s loose linen tunic. The druid’s thick thumbs dug into the v-shaped muscle at the vampire’s hips as if Astarion would float away from him. Halsin pulled away and leaned back to peer at Astarion, his thick eyebrows raised upward. It was a question, unspoken - is this okay?

The vampire gave a small nod, goosebumps rising along his skin. Halsin’s grip squeezed momentarily on his hips - his hands were comforting, and so warm around his body. If his heart had a beat, Astarion was sure it would have doubled its pace when Halsin had asked him for yet another sign of consent. The druid was agonizingly gentle, unnervingly kind. Astarion worried his bottom lip with his fangs.

Halsin waited, his lips parted as he panted for breath, for the vampire to continue their passion; he held to the small elf’s hips only to stay grounded in their intimacy, not spurring Astarion on, nor discouraging his affection. Halsin’s amber eyes fixed on Astarion’s. His clothed cock throbbed beneath the pale elf. He was a loyal soldier awaiting a command, a servant expecting a request, a lover allowing a moment to build. The tenseness between them was a short bow string pulled taut; ready to either let loose or snap in two.

For the first time in two centuries, Astarion realized it was his turn to be in control. True control, akin to that of a stage director, opposed to his experience as lead actor who commanded the stage at the whims of someone else. But now, with no master except his own desires, Astarion was elated to experiment. The rush of the power was intoxicating, sending throbs of pleasure to Astarion’s aching cock. The vampire released a sigh he did not know he had been holding. Halsin inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, his hands trembling at Astarion’s sides in anticipation.

The bow string snapped in two.

In a single movement, the vampire slipped one hand behind Halsin’s neck, his auburn hair slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He pressed his mouth, open and greedy, against Halsin’s, who returned his passion eagerly. Astarion’s other hand darted to Halsin’s trousers and deftly pulled out the laces.

The druid’s girthy cock pulsed at Astarion’s movements as it fell free from its confinement. Halsin groaned at the sensation of Astarion’s cool palm gripping his shaft. Halsin was fully erect, weeping in need already, his tip flushing a deep red. Halsin’s cock was uncut, his foreskin allowing Astarion’s hand to glide along its length. Astarion savored the sensation like it was the blood of a sacrificial virgin.

“By all the gods Halsin, you’re beautiful,” Astarion said, his lips parted slightly. The tips of his fangs were visible, glinting in the lamplight. Halsin was thick, and the firmness of his erection in his cool palm made the vampire’s own cock throb with unabashed desire. The druid moaned again, pulsing in the vampire’s hand, his hips swaying slightly beneath Astarion. In response, the pale elf offered a couple slow pulls from the base of Halsin’s shaft to the tip.

“Fuck,” was all Halsin could manage, his head falling back as he panted into the air. Seeing the druid come undone at his touch gave Astarion luxurious shivers of satisfaction from his scalp to his cock.

Halsin, true to his word, kept his hands as still as he could. His large fingers still dug into Astarion’s hip bones through his leather trousers, shaking with yearning. The large elf met Astarion’s gaze with his pupils blown out, his lips slightly parted as a moan slipped from his mouth. Astarion’s palms were slick with sweat and his fingers fumbled as he used his free hand to unfasten his own trousers.

The vampire’s arousal sprung free from his pants and bobbed in the air. Astarion hissed at the coolness surrounding his cock and thrust his hips closer to Halsin. He wrapped slender fingers around them both, shivering with the pleasure of Halsin’s heat against his erection. Halsin locked eyes with Astarion as the vampire pressed their cocks together.

“Astarion, every part of you is magnificent,” Halsin praised through labored breaths. “Your touch, I-” The druid’s words escaped him as Astarion shifted his hand to rub up and down their lengths. Halsin’s loose hair fell in front of his ears, onto his shoulders, sticking to his sweat-dampened chest. He glistened in the lamplight, like some sort of apparition.

Astarion struggled to not lose himself at Halsin’s appearance, at the tenderness and longing in the druid’s gaze. He pulled a few slow strokes for them both, his mouth open in a pant as their cocks rubbed against each other. The undersides of each of them slid against the other; the swollen shafts shifting as Astarion pumped his hand around them.

Halsin’s mouth fell open, the words he attempted to form trapped behind his tongue. His thoughts, praises, and curses seemed to escape him as Astarion flicked his thumbs over their slits. Pre-cum dribbled down their shafts as Astarion languidly circled his thumbs down the glistening heads, lubricating them further. The vampire’s strokes were smooth, his firm grip gliding over their mutual hardness as their foreskins pulled back and forward with his pumping hand.

Astarion looked to his own hand as it encircled both of their cocks; he relished in the sight of Halsin’s arousal next to his own. Halsin followed his gaze down; the druid’s sex pulsed and felt like it had grown harder at the sight alone. Halsin was thicker, but Astarion had a luscious curve that promised to hit all the naughtiest places. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see that even Halsin’s shaft was sun-touched and as tan as the rest of his skin. The vampire, of course, was pale as a full moon, except for the head of his cock, ruddy with the rush of blood.

The visual contrast was striking enough that Astarion realized it had been a moment since he stroked them together. Halsin had not rushed him to move, but his hips were pressed firmly upwards in need. Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as he pulled upwards again, more pre-cum beading at the tip of both their shafts. The vampire had tried similar positions before, and had plenty of experience with men; but in this moment, he forgot all of them. He and Halsin existed alone in this new world, one of pleasure and of comfort, and he wanted to explore it completely.

Astarion maintained the pumping rhythm with one hand, drawing more guttural moans from Halsin’s lips. With his other hand, he teased Halsin by swirling his fingers under the flared head of the druid’s cock. His fangs peeked from his upturned lips as the druid groaned at his touch. The druid’s contortions and hushed murmurs of rapture were irresistible prayers; Astarion felt like the god before whom Halsin supplicated.

Astarion’s cock quivered in need, more slick pre-cum spilling from its pink tip, dripping onto the vampire’s hand as he pumped both of their erections steadily. The druid peered hungrily at Astarion’s cock like it was a feast, and he was a ravenous dinner guest. But Halsin showed immense self-restraint, his hands still curled around Astarion’s waist, allowing the smaller elf to enjoy complete control.

The vampire basked in Halsin’s attention, in his own gratification, and in the pleasures he bestowed to his partner. Astarion bit back back the curses that he, too, wanted to let loose; the tip of his own fangs pierced his bottom lip.

“Oh Silvanus help me,” Halsin groaned as he shifted his hips. His blunt nails dug into Astarion’s hips.

A cry for his god. That would not do, not for this. The vampire almost sneered.

“Ah, ah, my darling,” Astarion tutted, his voice breathy and an octave lower than normal. He slowed his pumps just enough to pull what sounded like a sob from the larger elf’s lips. Halsin’s noises were foul. They were erotic. They were delicious.

Astarion savored the change of pace, the tantalizing tease of edging. He wanted to see how far he could take the larger man; how far he could take himself. The pale elf struggled to compose himself against the luscious friction. For once in his long life, he wanted to prolong the indulgence, the satisfaction, and the climax. It was a taunt; it was an indulgence. It was the ambrosia of a divinity all his own, brought to reality as he explored his hedonism with Halsin.

Astarion’s vision blurred as Halsin’s hips strained under him. The druid was eager and aching to thrust into the vampire’s palm but unable to, with how fiercely his knees trembled, and with Astarion’s weight in his lap. A rumble began in Halsin’s throat, and Astarion nearly climaxed from both the sound and the power he had over the man beneath him.

Other lovers had moaned his name of course, or more often, slurred it. But how delectable would it sound coming from Halsin’s lips instead? Astarion’s chest tightened. He had to find out.

He distracted himself from the daydream by sliding one hand from their shafts to cup Halsin’s balls, pulling yet another rumbling moan from the large elf. The druid’s sac was heavy in his palm, the curly hair tickling against Astarion’s milky skin. The vampire slid two fingers along the seam on Halsin’s sac, then pressed slightly on his perineum, back and forth, until he drew a moan from his partner. Astarion grinned in satisfaction.

Halsin’s hips shifted again underneath Astarion, his well-muscled thighs pressing up against him. The druid gazed at Astarion through half-lidded eyes, sweat dripping from his brow onto his cheek. The pale elf relished in Halsin’s unkempt appearance; his lips were parted, his brows furrowed, his hair stuck to his forehead. He was gorgeous.

The vampire’s fingers rolled Halsin’s balls gently, again causing the druid to squirm underneath them and let loose a string of oaths under his breath. His fingertips softly pulled at Halsin’s sac, his nails grazing the tightened skin. The druid seemed to melt at the vampire’s ministrations; Halsin could hardly speak. However, Astarion read lips well enough to pick up the words “Oak Father” on the druid’s mouth.

Astarion shook his head again, clucking his tongue in playful admonishment. This man will ruin me, Astarion thought. He loosened his grip around them both.

“Oh, dear Halsin, the gods have nothing to do with this sin,” Astarion hissed, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as he made locked eyes with Halsin. The druid’s pupils were blown out, his irises still glowing slightly, his nostrils flared and lips parted as he clung on the precipice of climax.

“When we are together, you’ll say only my name,” Astarion purred, basking in the reverence in Halsin’s eyes. They were clouded by lust and something else, far deeper: a fervent, warm, honey-sweet affection. Astarion squeezed their shafts again for a momentary tease, eliciting a succulent whimper from Halsin’s lips.

“Gods,” Halsin practically sobbed, and gripped Astarion’s hips tighter when the vampire loosened pressure around his cock. “Please…”

“Ah ah, to whom do you beg, darling?” Astarion’s voice was firm. Commanding. Authoritative.

“To you,” Halsin corrected feverishly. His bottom lip quivered as he gazed into Astarion’s wine-red eyes. His body quaked beneath the vampire. “My heart, my everything. My Astarion-”

Astarion captured Halsin’s lips in a growl of his own. It was obscenely erotic, to have such a stoic, eloquent man undone by his hands. His stoic, eloquent man. Astarion crushed his lips onto Halsin’s harder, his tongue exploring the druid’s hot mouth, which opened readily at the vampire’s touch. Halsin’s lips were luscious, but the druid needed to breathe; Astarion pulled away, saliva stringing between their lips before dripping down onto Halsin’s chest.

He wanted Halsin to be his; for now, forever, for as long as he could swim in the bliss he felt in Halsin’s companionship. Astarion pumped their cocks steadily, firmly, occasionally wincing as his palm grazed the sensitive flare of his own cock.

He smirked when he pulled the same reaction from Halsin, and repeated the gesture gently to make the druid writhe again. Halsin’s breath came out in such delicious whimpers, breath ragged with pleasure that grew with each touch beneath Astarion’s skillful fingers.

Halsin’s head fell backwards, his auburn braids stuck to the sweat on his brow. Astarion felt the druid’s sac tighten in his palm as a low moan escaped him. He was close now.

“Pray to me, darling,” Astarion whispered against Halsin’s gasping lips.

And pray Halsin did, with a wrecked cry of his name. The druid’s hips convulsed as he climaxed, a thick rope of cum spilling over Astarion’s elegant fingers.

Astarion used Halsin’s spill as additional lubricant, panting as he pumped himself to climax. His sac tightened, his balls felt like they would burst from pressure as he came closer to his climax. The pale elf met Halsin’s gaze before his vision blurred; the druid surprised him as he captured his lips in a passionate kiss and explored the pale elf’s pliant mouth with his hot tongue.

Halsin’s attention pushed him to orgasm. Astarion’s ears rang as stars burst behind his eyelids as he, too, coated his hand with his seed. The pale elf’s head swirled, but he felt himself smile back into Halsin’s lips, the feeling of warmth of the other man’s palm against his cheek. This, Astarion decided, was perfection. This was bliss. This is how sex was supposed to be, what it should have been. What it could continue to be.

Astarion felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes, and he let them fall. This little death, this drowning in Halsin’s affection, this exploration of something new was stronger than any intoxicant Astarion could imagine. And he knew that, and Halsin, would be far more addictive.

Halsin pressed a palm to Astarion’s chest, breathing deeply with the pale elf as he slowly floated back to the world. If his cold heart could have done so, Astarion felt as though it would flutter at the druid’s gentle touch. Halsin wrapped his arms around Astarion’s torso and leaned back into the pillows, pulling his partner with him. Astarion felt the weight of Halsin’s arm draped across his back. The druid’s large hands stroked the vampire’s tense shoulder muscles through his now-sticky shirt. 

Post-climax bliss, something Astarion had experienced rarely over his lifetime, still fogged his mind. The vampire’s hands settled on Halsin and were tickled by the druid’s chest hair. He found relaxation in the steady thump of his beating heart. Astarion’s eyes fluttered shut as he nestled his face under Halsin’s neck; the heat from the druid’s skin felt soothing on his forehead. Even though his shirt was damp and forehead slick with sweat, the vampire always ran cool to the touch.

The druid’s thumbs rubbed down both sides of his spine, rumpling Astarion’s shirt. Halsin’s motions were slow and intentional; it struck Astarion that massage, too, is an art of healing. As was lying beside, on, or with his partner. Just like this. The vampire lost himself in Halsin’s gentle carress, intent on keeping this moment alive for as long as he could.

Halsin was the first to shift from their position; he pressed Astarion to his chest in another embrace, then held the smaller elf in an unusually firm grip. Astarion raised his head, brows furrowed in confusion, to stare at his partner. Halsin’s face was expressionless, unreadable. The vampire’s mouth parted as he prepared to ask Halsin’s intent as the druid’s hazel eyes met his own.

Halsin did not give his partner a chance to speak, and placed a brief kiss on Astarion’s lips, only to pull back and pepper the vampire’s face and neck with kisses, tickling Astarion’s sensitive skin. The pale elf felt a squeak escape his lips as he squirmed in Halsin’s grip. The druid captured the vampire’s wrist and held it firmly, kissing Astarion’s fingers, then his palm. Halsin seemed to delight in planting tickling kisses along Astarion’s pale wrist. Halsin nibbled in the crook of Astarion’s elbow, up his sleeved biceps, and back up to his collarbone, holding the vampire firmly as he squirmed in his grasp. Astarion felt himself erupt into laughter, genuine laughter and joy, as the druid mercilessly planted ticklish pecks along his neck and chin.

After what seemed like an eternity of delightful torture, Astarion felt the grip on him lessen. Halsin shifted the placement of his large hands onto either side of the pale elf’s face. Astarion couldn’t resist their warmth, and leaned his face into Halsin’s palm; his eyes were closed, pale eyelashes kissing his cheeks. He allowed himself to live in this moment far longer than he ever allowed himself to indulge before.

As his eyelids flitted open, Astarion met Halsin’s gaze, softer than the vampire ever thought possible. “Astarion…” Halsin whispered, bringing his lips meet his partner in another kiss. It was a soft, tender exchange; chaste and sweet, like their very first had been. The pale elf pulled away just enough to speak.

“Halsin…” Astarion said softly, just centimeters from the druid’s lips, “thank you.” He lowered his head back to Halsin’s chest, his face and ears flush. He felt the druid nuzzle his face into his hair, and Halsin’s hot breath blowing through his curls. Astarion’s eyes fluttered shut as he fell into a trance to the sound of Halsin’s heartbeat.

[powderblueblood]

STEVE HARRINGTON X MILLION DOLLAR MAN !!!!

( idk if that’s what you meant 😭 pls delete if it’s not <3 )

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ MILLION DOLLAR MAN - LANA DEL REY

you've got the world, but baby at what price? or how falling in love with notorious conman steve harrington began your career as a fence of stolen jewelry.

an: @stveharringtn cherry how the fuck did you know that i've been sitting on a conman!steve au for what feels like a hundred thousand years. PERFECT SONG PERFECT CHOICE lets begin i hope you like it

warnings: my blatant obsession with the oceans eleven cinematic universe and pathological need to create a heist au out of EVERYTHING. and CUSSING IS IN THIS TOO.

word count: 2.5k

MIAMI BEACH, 1990

“Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned safe?”

“I don’t trust a safe. I don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, and I most definitely don’t trust a safe.”

Dustin Henderson dangerously toes the edge of squawking, but he doesn’t know any better. At this point in his career as a thief, he doesn’t understand that when Steve Harrington says he doesn’t trust anyone, it’s not dismissive. It’s simply a missive, a fact of life. Everyone’s got knives, everyone’s got backs. Stands to reason that someone’s going to thrust and someone is going to get stabbed. 

Steve likes to take all the necessary precautions. 

He doesn’t trust anyone. 

“But her you trust?” 

Robin Buckley’s tone is hard. Robin Buckley is the only person that Steve could imagine himself trusting, and even so, they keep each other at an imperceptible arm’s length. To the outside world, they’re bosom buddies, best friends eating dirt together. But they both understand the business that they’re in. 

They keep their knives sharp.

They take all the necessary precautions. 

So why the fuck is Steve bringing an outsider into the ring. 

“I never said that.” Steve grabs a coaster and pointedly puts it where Robin might next aim her beer bottle, dripping with incriminating condensation. All over his agarwood coffee table. 

“It was inferred.” Robin pointedly puts the bottle down– to the far left of the coaster. Fuck you.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.” Fuck you right back. 

“I know why he’s not using a safe,” Eddie Munson crows from the near background, wiping ash from his face. Eddie Munson, munitions expert. Eddie Munson, expert in blowing up any conversation within a three mile radius. Detonation test, by the way, that’s why his face is covered in shit. 

Steve holds out a hand–stop right where you are–before he can reach the agarwood table. 

“Because he’s–” and proceeds to make that finger in hole gesture that doesn’t crack a single smile in the room. Not even Dustin Henderson’s, mostly due to the fact that it’s happening behind his head. “Because he’s fucking her.” 

“It’s not that,” Steve and Robin say in unison, with Steve’s eyes narrowed on Eddie and Robin’s eyes trained unmercifully on Steve. 

It’s not that. They’re right. It’s worse. 

-

There’s something psychosexual about the game of tennis. The grunting, the tiny little skirts, the whacking of balls. The amount of money rich people love to spend on it. There’s something evil here, and you’ve committed yourself to a summer of trying to figure it out. 

Well, half-committed. Your real commitment is making enough tips to make a dent in your looming student loans. Post-graduation, a friend had given you a hot tip about private tennis clubs in Miami. They use hundos like napkins there, girl. Go get your piece. 

Your nana lives in Miami. Lived. She’s dead now, three months. You’re living in her condo now– technically in a seniors complex, assisted living type of thing, but it’s okay. It’s quiet. The people chat and force you to play bocce ball sometimes, the only sport you understand. 

Tennis, you don’t understand, other than the fact that these people have more money than they know what to do with and they’re all too repressed to grunt in the privacy of their own homes. 

After a time or two taking drink orders and bringing their rackets for in-house repair, they all blend into the same amorphous blob– the white outfits-on-white people effect does not help. They tip you in enormous digits, confident that you’ll remember them and treat them right, but you don’t have that skill. Some of your co-workers do, but you don’t. 

So, you notice when someone stands out. 

You smell him before you see him, and you know how that sounds, but bare with– 

The thickening, insistent incense smell of patchouli. Rainwater. Dust. Lemon.

When you turn from your place behind the bar, fetching your eighth double vodka soda in what seems like as many minutes for another bleach-blond man in his mid-forties, he’s leaning with one elegant elbow propped on the marble top. Sunglasses push over a shock of brown hair, streaked with blonde from the Florida sunshine. 

“Macallan, buddy. Up.” But he’s not talking to you. He’s talking to the bartender, Trent, the picture of incompetence. Trent nods to him, smiling broadly, but that flattens into a hard line as he turns toward the bar. 

This guy politely turns his head, eyes glossing right over you. But you are just staring a bullet hole right though him, and you can’t help it. He’s magnetic. He’s dressed in a light blue linen suit, a far cry from the tennis uniforms or the hollering Versace shirts every other man in the place seems to be wearing. The slope of his shoulders suggest something… provincial. 

He’s not a city boy– man. This is a man. 

You hear a clatter to your immediate right and see Trent pouring a finger of Chivas into a tumbler. 

“Oh, Trent, that’s not–” 

He passes it off to the linen gentleman, this Miami cowboy, with a serene smile. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Chivas and a Macallan, but you would. 

And you bet he would too. 

He departs in a cloud of the same heavenly scent he’d arrived in, heading courtside to watch trust fund kids fumble over backhands. 

“Trent,” you say, reaching for the correct bottle and a fresh tumbler. “Meet Macallan. For next time, okay?” 

The blond kid just shrugs at you. “All that shit tastes the same to me.” 

To you. 

You linger near the arm of his chair before speaking, suddenly able to hear your pulse in your ears. Up close, you can see moles dotting the hand holding the errant glass of Chivas. A big hand too, it seems to dwarf the crystal. 

“Excuse me,” you say, as steady as you can manage. It’s not very steady. You wish you would’ve thought to check your makeup before you made a beeline out here, but time, you couldn’t help but feel, was of the essence. 

He looks up at you over his sunglasses and you think your knees might buckle. 

Eyes like a dark wood. Inviting you in. The kind of eyes that don’t look through you. 

Christ, people had been looking through you all summer, but it didn’t matter now. 

“Is that the Macallan?” he mumbles conspiratorially. 

You just– nod, uniform-required ponytail bouncing. 

“I’ll trade you,” he says, about to pass off the glass of Chivas, but then he pauses. Takes you in, surveying you in a way that makes you blush, “if you can finish this one with me.” 

“Um…”

“Is that allowed?” he asks, “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Trouble be damned. The hell with trouble. Not only is your reputation as a little worker bee here untarnished, you can’t not sit with him. 

“I’m due a break, actually.”

“So I’ll trade you. Sit down, get comfortable. Give me the scoop on these tennis brats.”

He leans in to take the glass of Macallan from you, to pass off the glass of Chivas, and he brushes your hand. You experience the full entirely of a cliche, feeling electricity thrum under your skin– but then he passes a fingertip over the ring finger of your right hand. 

“That’s a pretty piece,” he hums, “Princess, right?”

For a second, you falter. Princess? Me? But it’s the ring he’s referring to– the yellow diamond engagement ring that once belonged to your nana. 

“Close!” you say, twisting the band on your finger in an act of self-consciousness. “Carré cut. Less pricey than a princess.”

“But just as pretty.” 

“And more rare, actually.” 

“Huh,” he says, and you smooth your skirt out with one hand, taking the seat nearest him. Enveloping yourself in the cloud of him. “Rarer than a princess.” 

From the court, a headband-wearing pre-teen in dazzling whites hollers fuck you, Mommy! Fuck you and your fucking bullshit topspin! I fucking hate this place!

“I’ll drink to that.” 

-

NEW YORK CITY, 1995

The car door slams behind Dustin Henderson, raindrops rolling from the brim of his baseball cap. It’s late November and a freezing rain has descended upon the Diamond District. 

Steve had at least hoped he might see sunshine when he got out of the joint. 

From the wheel, he cranes his neck to the back seat where Dustin sits, wiping the dripping water from the hat’s beak. His Thinking Cap. He’s had that thing since he was a kid and has somehow managed to keep it in immaculate condition. Dustin loves details. Dustin also loves risk. Which is why he’s the only man for this recon job. 

“Tell me,” Steve says, tone as level as he can possibly keep it. 

“She is way hotter than I remember.”

“Dustin.”

“Miami always makes people less hot. I think it’s the heat,” the kid chuckles, an obvious attempt at lightening a tense mood. See, they weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t supposed to be looking for you. Robin hadn’t said don’t go looking for her, but that more or less should have been in the terms of Steve’s release from Sing Sing. 

“Dustin.” 

“She’s in there, just like you said she’d be in there. It’s a white room and it’s got every kind of goddamn sparkler you could think of. Three layers of security. Three. What kind of jewelry store you ever been to that’s got three layers of security?” 

A detail like that would make a less accomplished thief sweat. But Dustin and Steve share a knowing smile. 

“A jewelry store selling stolen jewelry.” 

“Exactly,” Dustin nods. “I thought she’d be front-of-house, but she’s got her own office. Tucked away in the corner. Appointment only.” 

“Any availability?”

The younger man smirks. “For me or for you?” 

-

Buddy’s is the last place in midtown you can get a decent drink and not be surrounded by throngs of yuppies. 

You know this, because you tend to date the yuppies in the throng. 

This is the one place that seems to be universally avoided by the trader set– it’s too dark and wooden in here, no brutalist architecture to make them feel at home while they rail lines of coke off their girlfriend’s compact mirrors. 

At Buddy’s, there’s a pianist that’s been propping up the corner for the last half century, minimum. A carpet that’s never been shampooed spreads across the floor and the mahogany is dented in all the places the light doesn’t hit. You can smoke indoors. Everything Happens to Me by Chet Baker will play, and everything feels like it’s going to be alright. At least until happy hour ends. 

You have a regular seat by the bar, a vantage point for people-watching. A gin martini, hold the vermouth, sits waiting for you by the time you arrive. On an average Thursday, you spend a couple of hours drinking three of these in an act of decompression from the violent fluorescent lighting of your workplace. From peering through a looking glass, examining the way light refracts through gemstones. 

From moving cargo that isn’t yours to move. 

This Thursday has been no different. 

You drag a finger along the condensation of your martini glass, it’s perfect conical shape a welcome weight in your hand. 

Your hair is piled up on top of your head, and you wear your reading glasses, and though you are beautiful, no one bothers you. Nothing bothers you. 

Until you hear a sound you haven’t heard in years. 

Tapping, against the bartop. One, one. Two, two. Three, three. Nerves. It was the only time you could ever tell that he was nervous. 

“Macallan, buddy. Up.”

Fucker.

-

He knew you by every single detail about you, let’s get that straight. 

He is entirely sure that in a room of a thousand clones of you, he would be able to pick out the real one, just from your minute sigh. From the way your one shoulder always slopes. From curl at the base of your neck. 

From the way you play with your grandmother’s Carré cut diamond, still sitting pretty on your right hand. 

He positions himself a number of seats away from you, from the seat that he’s been watching you sit at for a couple of nights in a row now. He does not approach you directly. 

Partially to see if you’ll still remember him. 

Steve is still vain, in his ways. He wants a spotlight shone on him. 

He only ever remembers the warmth of yours. 

He orders the same drink he ordered that day you met at the tennis club, the same way. He even hopes the bartender will mistake the Chivas for the Macallan and you’ll have to climb over the bar and charmingly correct him. But Antoine, as he’s heard you call him, has been behind this bar longer than Saint Peter at the pearly gates, so there’s no fear of that. 

You don’t react right away, and he doesn’t expect you to. He savors it, in fact, the opportunity to slyly watch you. Even if you’re seething. Even if you’re seething, you’re seething like a goddess might seethe. Horrifying and beautiful, all at once. The definite end of him. 

Then, the lack of attention you’re showing him stretches on a beat too long. 

“Excuse me,” he says from his spots a couple of seats down, “Can you do me a favor?”

You don’t respond. This doesn’t stop him. Never has.

“You mind tasting this for me?” Steve pushes the glass toward you, sending it sliding down the bar. You catch it with your right hand, yellow diamond catching in the light. A cut like that has never sparkled until you’ve worn it. “You think that’s Macallan or Chivas? Be honest.”

Steve’s fingers flex unconsciously as you lift the glass. Tilt it toward your lips. Still making no eye contact. But you don’t sip. 

“I think you should be in prison,” you say into the crystal tumbler and place it back on the bar top. “Why the fuck are you not in prison.” 

Steve closes the space between you, taking in that powdery perfume you’re still wearing after all this time. Candied violets. He settles into the beside you and props his palm under his chin. 

“Why are you selling stolen jewelry.”

He sees you tense for a brief moment, then release. Like you knew he’d say that, like you should have seen that coming. Because you know him, and you always see him coming. Other than Robin, you’re the only one that ever has. 

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“So that when some bastard in a bad linen suit asks me to hold on to some stolen jewelry, I’ll at least know how much it’s worth.”

A beat. You stare Steve down with such naked disdain that his heart twists in his chest. You hate him, and he sees that, and with all the evidence stacked up against you, he should hate you too. But that wasn’t what bit him.

“That suit wasn’t bad, Princess.”

[m-jelly]

Chapter 2

Thank you @ladycheesington for the perfect banner

Vampire Levi x fem!reader

Victorian era like world, vampires, secrets, romance, falling in love, vampire lore, sexual tension, possessive Levi, protective Levi.

This chapter: Levi steals you away before Lord Demont can turn up to take you on a date. Levi seeps you off your feet and shows you a perfectly romantic time. You share a kiss, reveal your feelings for each other and then Levi tells you the secrets of the city and that he is a vampire. Fully accepting the truth, Levi whisks you away and tells you how important it is for you to stay close because now you know the secret world, things will be dangerous.

Part 3

The dress hugged your form in a flattering manner. Your aim today was not to woo Lord Demont, but simply amuse him enough that he was satisfied and would leave you alone for some time. Your heart was beating for only one man and it longed to be close to him. Lord Levi was a divine being to you. The way he talked, moved, cared and most of all, gazed at you was electrifying. To kiss his lips would be pure bliss.

A biting autumn breeze rushed by you as you stood in the park. Your gloved hands clutched at your cloak to hold it closer to you. A crimson leaf drifted by your gaze causing you to move your attention to the tree shielding you. The mixing colours of the leaves looked as if the tree was on fire. Though the tree was coming to the end of being full of life, it was so beautiful.

Lord Demont watched you closely as you marvelled at nature changing. Entranced by your beauty, he simply stood there unmoving. To woo you was his goal. He had to think about how to approach you so you would fall for him. He wanted to possess you.

“You look lonely.” A smile spread across Levi’s lips when you shivered at his deep voice right against your ear. He pulled back from you and stepped into view. “Are you waiting for someone?”

You hummed as you tried to remember, but Levi was so captivating. “Umm…oh, Lord Demont said he would take me for lunch.”

Levi pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time before quickly glancing over at a hidden Demont spying on you. “It appears he is delayed by a woman?”

Confusion was etched over your face. “What do you mean?”

“Lucius is well known for sleeping around with many women. He is creating a collection. He’s seeing how many he can be with.”

You released a long sigh. “I figured as much.”

Guilt prickled and stung Levi. He was being truthful, but he knew deep down in his core that he only said it so you would not want to go near Lucius again and only want him. Levi wanted you as his. “I see him not showing up as a good thing.”

You gazed at Levi as he looked over his small round black sunglasses at you. “Oh? Are you proposing we go on a date?”

Levi offered his arm to you. “Indeed I am.”

You took his arm as you softly smiled. “Good. I was hoping so.” The scent rolling off Levi was so inviting and intoxicating to you as you walked together. “We seem to always be meeting each other.”

“You’re right.”

You blushed as he gazed down at you. “Almost makes me think it is either fate or this is being arranged by you.”

He purred a little. “It is up to you to decide.”

“I would like to believe in both. That would mean fate and you want it also.”

He placed his hand on yours that clutched his arm. “You are correct.”

Your cheeks burned. “I umm…”

“You don’t need to return my feelings.” He reached the door of the restaurant he owned. “All I need is your attention and company.” A bell rang when he dragged open the door. The mixture of delicious scents of warm food drifted past the both of you. Levi could smell the hint of blood within them. “I do hope you like this place.” He leaned closer and whispered against your ear. “I own it.”

You entered the clean restaurant with varnished food everywhere, along with soft lighting and stained glass windows. “Well, I will make sure to review this place truthfully and brutally.”

Levi ushered you to a private room as he held back a smile, he was rather enjoying your spark. This feistiness was fun. “I expect nothing less.” He pulled your cloak off. “I will make sure you are treated like a Queen.”

You tugged your gloves off and felt a bit flustered at Levi seeing you in such a tight dress. “You’re too kind.”

Levi stopped and stared a moment. The way your dress gripped your upper body was arousing to him. You were such a stunning being to him. The corset was firmly pressed against your breasts. Your bosom moved with each breath you took. “You look…”

You turned your head to hide your embarrassment. “If I had known you were my date, I would have worn something better. Forgive my attire.”

He softly caressed your cheek with deep affection. “You are stunning. However, you now have me curious as to what you would wear for me.”

You moved closer to Levi. “Request another date and you shall find out.”

“I would love to have another date, but first I must ensure this one goes well.” He pulled a chair out for you. “If I fail you might run and do not want that.”

You sat down and gently smiled. “Thank you.”

He took his seat and gazed at you as his heart fluttered in his chest. “What would you like to eat?”

You picked up the paper menu and admired the careful and delicate writing. You lowered the menu and tapped when you wanted. “These. They sound delicious.”

“A pot of tea also?”

“Please.”

Levi rang a bell and waited for an attendant to come in. He softly spoke to them, it was difficult to hear what he was saying and it was intentional. Being a vampire around someone who did not know about them was hard. Every fibre of Levi’s being wanted to tell you the truth, but he was scared you would run. He wanted to gain some of your heart before he told you what he really was.

Levi hummed in thought. “Do you hold affections towards Lord Demont?”

You thought about the white-haired man who wanted to take you on a date. “No.”

“Do you find him…attractive?”

It was hard to hold back a smile, but you did your best. “Would it upset you if I did?”

A delicate blush consumed Levi’s cheeks. “N-No.”

“I desire the truth, Levi.”

He waited for the attendant to place the drinks down and leave. “Very well. Yes. It would greatly upset me if you found him attractive and wanted him.”

You made your tea and sipped it slowly. Normally you weren’t so confident, but seeing an attractive, kind, smart and caring man like Levi on the edge of his seat was exciting. You smiled at Levi. “No. To most he is, but he isn’t the type of man I would fall for.”

Levi downed his tea mixed with blood. “Tch, you did that on purpose.”

You lightly laughed. “Forgive me.”

He took your hand in his before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Forgiven. You’re lucky you’re so cute and sweet.”

You stared at Levi’s two slightly sharp teeth. “Your teeth.”

Levi moved his hand over his mouth. “What about them?”

“They’re cute.”

He lowered his hand. “Really?”

You cupped the side of his face and ran your thumb over his bottom lip. “I adore them.”

Temptation got the better of him. Levi playfully nipped your thumb making you squeak in such an adorable way. He released your thumb and smiled at you. “That makes me happy.”

You pulled back when the food was placed down. You noticed Levi’s food was red, which was rather cute and fun. You ate in comfortable silence with smiles on your faces. Levi finished first and made your heart race as he watched you closely. You pulled your gaze away as your body became very aware of him. He moved around you in the room and hummed along to the live music played in the other room.

You moved your plate away before sitting back. “I must say, Levi, your restaurant is incredible. I have never had such a delightful meal before.”

Levi offered his hand to you. “I am glad you enjoyed it.”

You took his hand and stood up before him. “When I heard that you owned many places here, I assumed you would be rather…”

“Egotistical? Understandable seeing as Lucius is.” He pulled you close against him and began dancing with you. “I care not for money and riches. I use most of my money to care for my mother and others.” He twirled you around on the spot. “I would like to spend some on you.” He yanked you close and dipped you. “If you would allow it.”

You gulped hard. “I…well…I am not used to being spoiled.”

Levi held you close as he slowly swayed with you. “Then I shall help you.”

You hummed a laugh. “How sweet.”

“I must ask.” His lips inched closer to yours. “May I take you on another date?”

“Please do. I find you captivating.”

He looked down at your lips. “I find your lips captivating.”

You mewled in delight as you clutched his shirt. “Levi, you set my heart ablaze with your words.”

He tilted his head a little. “I am glad.”

A little gasp escaped you. “Levi.”

“May I kiss you?”

You hummed a little in agreement. “You may.”

There was a slight hesitation, only for a moment as if both were making sure it was okay. When the moment was over your lips connected. A passionate fire burned through the two of you and engulfed you with love and passion. You clung to each other tightly as something inside you both connected and seemed so right. Soft lips moved together as tongues shyly touched. As confidence and love filled your hearts your tongues moved together in a delicate dance. The kiss was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Though this kiss was not yours or Levi’s first, it was certainly the best and most mesmerising kiss you’d ever experienced. It seemed as if the two of you were meant to be together.

Levi released your lips as his fangs tingled. His forehead tapped against yours as you panted together. A deep and lustful growl escaped Levi’s lips. “Forgive me. I got rather heated.”

You shivered under his touch. “I too became heated.”

“I…I have been lying to you.” He pulled back a little. “I must confess before we continue what is between us.”

You held Levi’s hands. “No matter what you tell me, I will still care for you.”

“I…I’m not what I seem.” His eyes darkened as his fangs grew, his voice deepening. “I am a vampire and the man you met in that alleyway who followed you to save you in the park was me. I was feeding on my blood donor and you found me.”

You clutched your chest as you stared at his fangs. The red remains on his plate grabbed your attention for a moment. Everything began falling into place. The coldness of his skin, the dark clothes, the lack of eating and drinking, the knowing where you always were and that he appeared out of nowhere at work seemed to make sense. The man you had fallen for was a blood-drinking being. You had heard the rumours that this city was for the vampires and other beasts at night. It all made sense.

Levi pulled away from you as his heart began to sting. “I frighten you…” Pain filled him as he began to break. The Queen’s wicked and cruel grip on Levi slowly returned. He was beginning to believe her words that he was unlovable. “I disgust you…”

You hurried over to Levi. “No, no that’s not true.” You cradled Levi’s face in your hands. “I am not afraid. I am not disgusted. You have shown me such kindness and care whenever we are together. You had many opportunities to hurt me and yet you never once did. I feel safe with him.”

Levi closed his eyes as we felt tears roll down his cheeks. Never had he met someone so caring and accepting before. His heart was calmed by your touch and words. It was clear to Levi that he should never let you go. Someone like you was rare in his world. Vampires were either met with fear or intense lust and arousal. You were different. You presented love. All wicked words from the Queen vanished and her terrible hold on him went.

He opened his eyes and smiled softly. “You’re too kind.”

“I care for you, Levi. I care for you deeply and romantically. I want to be yours.” You lightly kissed his lips. “To care for you would mean to care for all of you, everything you are.”

He moaned a little. “You are too sweet for your own good.”

“Perhaps.” The tense atmosphere was softened by your sweet giggle. “Is that not one of the reasons you care for me?”

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You are correct.”

“Levi?”

“Mm?”

Curiosity buzzed inside you. “May I look at your fangs?”

He parted his lips. “Dangerous thing to ask a vampire.” He licked your thumb and delighted in the sound of your racing heart. “You may get more than you bargained for.” He nipped your thumb. “Look away.”

You pushed his top lip up just a little as Levi opened his mouth. You admired his fangs and how sharp and big they seemed. “Does it hurt?” You removed your hands allowing him to speak. “Getting bitten that is.”

He held your hand and grazed his fangs against your skin. “For a moment, but then it’ll feel good. We have a coating on our fangs. The coating makes those we feed on feel incredibly good and slightly aroused.”

“How exciting.” You placed your hands on Levi’s chest as he pulled you closer. “I look forward to the day you feed from me.”

“You are just extraordinary. You show no fear towards me or about knowing the truth of this city.”

You hugged Levi. “Do all vampires come out at night?”

“Yes.” He kissed the side of your head. “Along with other beings. There are pure-blood vampires and some are made vampires. You can tell who are the pure-blooded, as they have power like I do.”

You looked up at Levi. “You’re a pure-blood?”

“I am.” He tilted his head slightly as he observed you. “Your acceptance of this all…”

You hummed in thought. “Well, I suspected that something like that was going on when I first met Lucius. I was warned a lot about the night here. The police would disappear at night. Plus, Mr Callahan tried to get me to work late on purpose.” You lowered your head. “I can’t forget the night I met you also. My fright was seen that night. However, a part of me was calmed by you.”

“Calmed?”

You nodded as your heart fluttered. “Yes. I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel so calm and at peace with you. I hold no fear or worries. I just want to be in your arms, always.”

Levi closed his eyes and held you against his body. He had lived for many long years and he had the kindness of his parents, his wonderful friends and met a few people along the way. However, he had never experienced such love and care as you were giving to him. Anxiety filled him as he thought about the possible dangers you could be in now he’d opened your life to his world. The seedy dark side of the city now had its eyes on you and he had to protect you.

He cupped the side of your face and raised your head. “My darling, I must ask something of you.”

You gazed at him with such a cute sparkle in your eyes. “Yes?”

“This is to keep you safe, not because of other reasons.” He sighed. “I need to give you a bit of my blood so I am connected to you.”

You tilted your head. “May I give you some of mine in return?”

Levi’s cheeks burned. “I uh…well…if…if you want to. I don’t want to pressure you.”

You reached up and touched the collar of your dress. “Well, we would need to go somewhere more private so I can remove some of my dress.”

Levi looked away and groaned. “You…”

You held his hands. “Levi?”

He locked eyes with you. “I shall take you to my manor. It’ll be safe for you. You have never had vampire blood before, so you need to be in a safe place to experience it.”

You nodded. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

Levi grabbed your cloak and put it around you. “I will get a carriage for us.”

It was all so exciting to be going home with Levi. Life before the city was so simple and boring. Every day was studying or reading a book by the window so you could admire the weather now and then. Since coming to the city you have gained an interesting job, learned about a secret world and found the man of your dreams who could love you for all eternity. You had never been with anyone before, no other man had interested you and yet Let walked into your life and entranced you. He had your heart.

You hugged his arm as you walked with him through the restaurant and outside into the streets to see the sun was beginning to set, meaning you and Levi had been so enamoured with each other that you had talked for hours.

The carriage rattled to a stop and looked rather beautiful compared to the ones you had ridden in before. Inside the carriage, the seats were soft under you when you sat. It was spacious as well, so you weren’t so cramped when you were with someone. However, Levi sat right next to you and that’s exactly what you wanted. The carriage swayed so nicely and lulled you into a sweet comfort.

Levi placed a loving kiss on your forehead. “Are you tired?”

“Mm, no I just feel comfortable and safe around you.”

Levi smiled a little. “I’m glad.” He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly. “Mm. I wish I could hold you forever.”

“Me too.”

He closed his eyes for a while as the carriage took you both to the edge of the city. Thoughts of biting you filled his mind. The thought of feeding from you was arousing to Levi. Levi had fed from women and men before and felt no attraction or arousal, but there was something just so magnetic about you. Levi gulped hard as his mouth watered at the thought. He tried to still his heart and not let his desires for you get the best of him.

Levi opened the carriage door and assisted you out of it. “This is my home.”

You gasped in delight as you saw the dark grand gothic home before you with a stunning garden behind it. “This is a dream home.”

“Thank you.” He led you up to his grand door and opened it to reveal the stunning dark wood inside, the simple chandelier, the beautiful paintings, the wooden floors and the soft-looking carpets. “I will notify my butler and maid of your presence. They’ll get a room ready for you.” He kissed your cheek. “Allow me to take you to the sitting room.”

You couldn’t stop looking around the place, it was just so stunning, welcoming, warm, comforting and homely. You bumped into Levi and blushed a little. “Excuse me.”

He sat you on the sofa and kissed your forehead. “Wait here, my darling.”

You shifted on the sofa as you heard his staff talk about you and stare. You gave them a sweet smile making them giggle and get excited. They weren’t mocking you at all, they were actually excited that their master had finally brought a woman home. It seemed that you were the only woman in Levi’s life.

Levi returned to you and sat at your side. “A room will be prepared for you unless you want to be with me?”

You fiddled with your dress. “I uh…I have never been with a man before.”

Levi’s eyes widened. “Really? Someone as sweet and as beautiful as you?”

You giggled. “Levi, you’re too sweet.”

He placed his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed. “I’ll take great care of you, I swear. We’ll take our time as well. Whenever you want me to stop, you tell me and I will.”

You moved closer to him. “I will.”

He reached up to your high collar. “May I?”

“You may.”

He slowly undid the buttons. “I’ve lived for many years and I must say that this time period is odd. I came from a time when women and men wore soft fabrics and silks, but now they cover everything up.”

You hummed a laugh. “It must be exciting to see the world change and develop.”

“It is.” He pushed the top part of your dress open and paused a moment. “All I know now is that I want to watch the world change with you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t ever want to lose you either.”

Levi leaned closer and ran his lips up your neck causing you to softly moan. “I’ll bite you first and then I will heal you with my blood.”

You shivered at his words against your neck. “Mm, yes.”

Levi opened his mouth a little as his fangs grew. He placed delicate and loving kisses on your neck and enjoyed the sweet hum that came from you. He dragged his tongue over where he was going to bite. With a gentle blow of cool air against your neck to arouse you, he parted his lips and bit down on your neck. Blood burst from the wound and flooded into Levi’s mouth. He tangled his fingers into your hair as his other gripped your waist. He pulled you against him and moaned in delight at how sweet you tasted. Levi had drank from others before, but there was something so divine about yours.

Just as Levi had said, the first part of the bite had hurt you but then it became incredibly pleasurable. You clung tightly to Levi as you felt such blissful euphoria from him feeding on you. You moaned and mewled under his touch as you felt lightheaded. You gasped when Levi pulled back from your neck with blood all over his lips and tongue. You shivered when he licked his lips and purred at you.

Levi moaned before cutting his tongue on his fang. “Open your mouth, darling.” As soon as you opened your mouth and crashed his lips against yours and pushed his blood into your mouth. His tongue moved with yours making you shiver in delight. Levi’s heart throbbed in his chest when he felt the two of you connect through the exchange of blood. He pulled back and panted. He smiled as he said your name. “You are something special.”

Your heart fluttered. “Levi.” A tingle went through your body, you felt alive and excited all wrapped into one. Compelled by Levi’s wonderful aura and his blood, you climbed onto his lap and pushed him down on his back on the sofa. “Levi.”

He gazed up at you and began chuckling. He dragged you onto him and tangled his fingers in your hair. “Look at you. You have taken to my blood rather well.” He hugged you tightly. “I am sorry for the strong arousal, but vampire blood is a bit like a drug if you are not used to it.”

You pawed at his body and lightly rolled your body against his. “Levi, please.”

He rolled onto his side with you. “In time, my darling.”

You panted as you felt electrified. You hid your face in the crook of his neck as you felt slight shame at how aroused and needy you were. “Mm.”

“Don’t be saddened.”

You released a sigh. “I am not saddened but slightly ashamed and embarrassed.”

“Tell me why.”

You looked Levi in the eyes. “I have never felt this way before. I want you so badly. I crave you.” You leaned up and panted a little with your chest heaving in your corset. “I want to give you everything. I want to give you all my firsts.”

Levi growled at you. “Do not be ashamed and embarrassed with how you are feeling. I’m feeling the same, but as I said we will take our time.”

You shook a little. “Mm…don’t leave me.”

He held your chin. “Never. I will never leave you.”

You panted a little. “Hot. I’m hot.”

Levi sat up before scooping you up into his arms. “I will help you cool off.” He carried you upstairs and to his room. He sat you on his grand dark brown bed.  

The bed was beautiful beyond words. The headboard was a dark brown wood with intricate carvings and decorations with a central piece. The main part of the bed was large for two people to snuggle on and more. Candles were lit up making a soft glow to show the dark walls with delicate paintings of roses in key parts. A chandelier hung above was lit up by gas lighting, meaning Levi had the latest additions and inventions in his home. Thick curtains were pulled open to show the tall windows that curved at the top. The view outside was the vast gardens that Levi owned.

Levi cupped the side of your face and kissed you. “I will let the maid in to dress you.”

You grabbed Levi’s hand just as he started to leave. “Mm…stay…”

Levi showered your hand in kisses. “My darling, I will be gone for a moment. I will return to you.”

You whimpered once he released your hand. You clutched your chest and felt a yearning inside you for you to be with Levi again. You gently smiled at the maid as she removed your clothes and dressed you in a light and soft nightdress. She let your hair down to show how soft and long it was. You forgot about the need within you for Levi when she started combing your hair and instantly relaxed.

The maid let you go and softly smiled. “My lady, I have never known my Lord to be so happy before. You are the first woman he has ever brought here. It makes us all so happy.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I’m glad I make him happy. He makes me happy as well. I understand we have just started our love, but I cannot wait for it to continue for eternity.”

“I am sure you both will be together forever.” She bowed to you. “Excuse me. I will get my Lord.”

You clutched your dress as you felt excited again. “Thank you.”

She moved to the door and opened it to reveal Levi had been waiting outside this whole time. “My Lord, she is ready. I will leave you both be.”

Levi entered the room and closed the large door after the maid. He turned to you and blushed hard. “You…you’re…” He moaned your name as he moved closer. He reached over and caressed your cheek making you weak instantly. “So divine.”

You leaned into his touch. “Thank you.” You wobbled on your legs. “Levi.”

He caught you in his arms as you became weak for him. “I have you.” He scooped you up and said your name sweetly. “I have you.” He kissed you and moaned in delight. “You need to rest.”

You clung to Levi as he lay you on his bed under the covers. “Will you be joining me?”

“Indeed I will, but I must change.”

You clung to the sheets tightly as Levi moved behind a screen to change in his night things. You perked up once he walked out. You were in shock at first because most men wore a night dress like you, but Levi was only in trousers. “Levi.”

He closed his curtains before climbing into bed with you. “Now we have exchanged blood, you are mine. Now and forever.”

You snuggled against Levi. “It is hard to believe this all sometimes. I don’t think I want to leave.” You whimpered. “I do not want to go back to work for Mr. Callahan. I want to stay with you.”

Levi kissed your forehead. “That is only the blood talking. After resting a while you’ll think differently.”

“No.”

Levi hummed a laugh as he played with your hair. “No?”

“Mm. I want to stay with you.”

Levi released a long sigh. “I hope you feel and say the same when we wake up.”

“I will.”

He held you tightly. “Well, that sounds wonderful. Now, sleep.”

You gazed up at him. “I desire a kiss.”

Levi pressed his lips against yours and moaned in delight as he enjoyed the spark between the two of you. He nipped your lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth and moaning in pleasure as you both shared a passionate kiss together. He tugged on your lip a little at the end and chuckled. “Sleep.”

[darkphoenix180]

Zeus: god of thunder and the sky. He is considered the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans. 

Hera: goddess of marriage, family, childbirth, and woman. She was the wife and sister of Zeus, and many of her most famous myths center around her jealous retributions to Zeus's infidelity.

Poseidon: god of the sea (and water in general), earthquakes, and horses. He was one of the most powerful gods in ancient Greek mythology, Poseidon was held responsible for earthquakes, rivers, floods, droughts, and anything involving water in general.

Demeter: goddess of harvest and agriculture. This was a hugely important role, which gave her the power to sustain life through the growth of all plants and grains, particularly cereal grains.

Ares: god of war and more properly the spirit of battle. He represented the distasteful aspects of brutal warfare and slaughter. Ares was noted for his beauty and courage, qualities which no doubt helped him win the affections of the Greek goddess Aphrodite.

Athena: goddess of wisdom, craft, and warfare. In wars where she was most commonly depicted, Athena embodied cold rationality, tactics, and strategy. Athena's cold logic stood in direct contrast to her brother Ares' rage, violence, and impulsiveness.

Apollo: god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the sun and light, poetry, and more. One of the most important and complex of the Greek gods, he is the son of Zeus and Leto, and the twin brother of Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He is considered to be the most beautiful god and is represented as the ideal of the Kouros (ephebe, or a beardless, athletic youth).

Artemis: goddess of the hunt, the wilderness, wild animals, nature, vegetation, childbirth, care of children, and chastity. Artemis was very protective of her purity and gave grave punishment to any man who attempted to dishonor her in any form. Like all the Greek Olympic gods, Artemis was immortal and very powerful. Her special powers included perfect aim with the bow and arrow, the ability to turn herself and others into animals, healing, disease, and control of nature.

Hephaestus: god of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpture, and volcanos. In Greek mythology, Hephaestus was either the son of Zeus and Hera or he was Hera's parthenogenous child. He was cast off Mount Olympus by his mother Hera because of his lameness, the result of a congenital impairment; or in another account, by Zeus for protecting Hera from his advances (in which case his lameness would have been the result of his fall rather than the reason for it).

Aphrodite: goddess of love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion, procreation, desire, sex, fertility, prosperity, and victory. Florence

Aphrodite is usually said to have been born near her chief center of worship, Paphos, on the island of Cyprus, which is why she is sometimes called "Cyprian", especially in the poetic works of Sappho. The Sanctuary of Aphrodite Paphia, marking her birthplace, was a place of pilgrimage in the ancient world for centuries.

Hermes: god of boundaries, roads, travelers, thieves athletes, shephards, commerce, speed, cunning, wit, and messages. Hermes was considered the messenger of the Olympic gods. According to legend, he was the son of Zeus, king of Mount Olympus, and Maia, a nymph. As time went on, he was also associated with luck, shepherds, athletes, thieves, and merchants.

Dionysus: god of wine making, orchards and fruit, fertility, festivity insanity, tuition insanity, religious ecstacy, and theatre. The son of an immortal god and a mortal princess, Dionysus’ role forged a crucial link between humanity and the divine, serving as a force of cyclical, unbridled nature who drew men and women out of themselves through intoxication. In that sense, Dionysus, a genial but wild and dangerously ravishing intermediary, represents one of the enduring mysteries and paradoxes of life.

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 1)

whoa it's been more than a month since i posted here

anyways masamina fans come get ur food

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The original Japanese is "生者必滅、会者定離", which contains the characters for kai and hanare

These are all traditional Japanese wind instruments

Takamagahara is the home of the gods in Shintoism

An imina is the real name of a noble or deceased person

Previous | Next

The light rain was falling onto their kyudo raincoats.

Minato and Shuu were visiting the kyudojo where Saionji had taught them when they were young. It was the perfect place for intensive training as they could avoid the public eye. But something unexpected happened.

“Please let us join the Saionji school,” the twins Senichi and Manji said.

“I as well. I would very much like to learn from the master of the Saionji school of kyudo,” Seiya said after them.

Saionji’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Oh my, you are all being very dramatic, aren’t you? I don’t have such a sign put up, though. Do you have the approval of your current teachers?”

“Yes, there is no problem.” “Please let us become your disciples.” “Please.” The three refused to budge, their heads bowed. Saionji laughed aloud as he looked at the three round heads lined up.

“I’m not taking any disciples, but let us draw our bows together. It’s a pleasure to have more companions. I welcome you all.”

Seiya bowed deeply, and Senichi and Manji pumped their fists.

First, they swept, sang prayers, read sutras, meditated for three minutes, and did warm-up exercises. Then, Saionji told them to do these things at home next time.

“It has been a long time since I’ve held a bow in front of people, but Fujiwara-kun asked me to do it, so I had no choice but to accept it. Please watch my shooting.”

Saionji went before the targets with four arrows. He raised his bow up high. His eyes were half-closed, similar to the Buddha’s meditative state. The genuine article couldn’t hide his brilliance even when he became old. The rain hid the scenery that should have been visible, even erasing the sounds of people that should have been audible.

The drawn bow overflowed with joy and begged him not to let go yet. The kyudo terms “kai” and “hanare” came from the Last Teaching of the Buddha, “Death is the doom of every living thing, those who meet must part.” (1) The truth that no one could overturn, and a proud statement of will by the archer who accepted his mortality but never stopped walking. The bow and archer were together until the very end.

When the arrow landed at twelve o’clock, just before the target frame, Senichi and Manji let out cries of admiration.

The second arrow landed at six o’clock, also right before the target frame.

The third shot hit the target at nine o’clock, near the target frame once again. At this point, Seiya’s body was trembling. “N-No way,” Senichi and Manji muttered. Shuu and Minato were silent.

For the last shot, Saionji hit the target at three o’clock, the arrow just grazing the target frame.

Minato went to collect the arrows. Meanwhile, Senichi and Manji were still extremely excited.

“It’s difficult just to hit the target, but to hit the target in different directions!? That’s superhuman!”

Unusually, Shuu showed emotion on his face. That was no wonder, since his master granted his disciple’s wish. He was intoxicated with this greatest luxury.

“Aim at the target without aiming, while having the skill to hit the spots he’s aiming at. After personifying a hundred shots, he aims for even higher peaks. Awa-hanshi from Zen in the Art of Archery was able to do the same thing, apparently. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be in this miraculous place.”

“As expected of Shuu’s master. I got goosebumps.”

“It feels like a legend becoming truth, and truth becoming myth.”

Senichi and Manji were speaking enthusiastically, but Seiya felt something like despair.

“I’ve heard about it, but when I actually see it with my own eyes, it just makes me realize how weak I am. No matter how much I practice, I don’t think I’ll ever reach that level.”

When Minato returned from arrow collecting, the five of them sat in front of Saionji.

“My earlier shots are improper, so please don’t copy them. The way of the bow is about perfecting one’s personality and uniting with nature. It is not about hitting a target with arrows. It would be difficult to suddenly free your mind from obstructive thoughts, so the first step is to visualize good form. Believe in yourself and love yourself wholly even if you are hopeless. Then verbalize ‘I can do it’ and fix that into your brain. Your brain will faithfully respond to your words and send commands to each part of your body. If you change your thinking, your body will also change.”

Shuu added, “This is an easy-to-understand example of the placebo effect. If you take a simple nutritional supplement after hearing that it’s ‘medicine,’ your symptoms would recover or be alleviated. It has been medically proven that the expectation or pleasure of a drug activates the part of the brain that boosts the immune system.”

“That’s right. And if we go one step further and follow the voice of our inner soul rather than the voice of our brain, the powers we have as living beings will begin to function. Saying ‘keep at it’ with your heart even when your body is tired will only create an estrangement. Your soul should be telling you that it wants to rest.”

“So, you’re saying that the words uttered by the body, mind, and soul should be the same.”

“We are immature creatures who have not yet matured as humans. It could also be interpreted as saying that we still have room to grow. When we learn to listen to the voices of our inner souls, good situations naturally follow.”

Then, they let out yagoe.

As soon as they released their arrows, they let out a powerful “Yah!”

Minato and Shuu roared without hesitation. It was a lion’s roar. In the other martial arts kendo and judo, one shouted kiai, but this technique had somehow disappeared in kyudo. Seiya, unused to it, was reserved, but Senichi and Manji shouted without hesitation.

“Whoa, this actually feels good.”

Saionji observed everyone’s shooting forms.

“Keep stretching, keep stretching. Yes, that’s perfect.”

“When you reach daisan, your right elbow will remain tense. At kai, the bow hand and sword hand twist, as though wringing a rag.”

They also practiced stretching out their arms and lightly gripping the pillars, then twist their elbows without moving their hands.

After finishing two hours of practice, Minato took out his bento box.

There was takoyaki inside.

“There might not be enough since it was intended for three people. Shuu is around here.”///

Senichi and Manji were glued to Shuu.

“It’s kinda refreshing to see Shuu eating takoyaki in his kyudo clothes.”

“Sen, Man, if you’re not going to eat them, then I’ll have them.”

“Hey, wait, we’re eating them! What, this is really good.”

“They seem to contain the Narumiya family’s secret ingredients.”

“No wonder Shuu loves takoyaki.”

Senichi and Manji devoured them in no time, and Shuu, who was trying to enjoy them thoroughly, stared at the empty bento box.

When they were about to head home, Saionji stopped Minato and Shuu, and asked Seiya, Senichi, and Manji to return home first.

The rain had stopped before they knew it.

The azaleas withstood the weight of their wet petals.

On the scarred floor of the dojo, the long shadows of one man and two boys faced each other.

The sun tilted to the west, dyeing the horizon red, and the sky became a river of deep blue and madder. Purple-tinged clouds dyed by two-colored light flowed slowly along the river. The clouds constantly changed their expressions as they drifted, never remaining in the same shape. Everything returned to the mother sea.

The setting sun gave off its last rays behind Saionji’s shoulders.

“The statute of limitations has already expired. I was hiding something from both of you. In actuality, I told Narumiya-kun’s mother that he was drawing a bow under my tutelage. After the accident, Fujiwara-kun was saddened by the fact that he wasn’t informed of anything. It was a foolish act on my part. I apologize.”

Shuu was ashamed.

“Since Saionji-sensei didn’t say anything, I thought that there must have been some sort of deep reason behind it. I also knew that it wasn’t as though Minato had suddenly lost interest in kyudo.”

Saionji looked into Minato’s eyes and continued.

“Narumiya-kun’s mother once watched a match that you and Fujiwara-kun were in. She told me that she cheered for you both. The promise that you made with your mother has already been fulfilled. Please be rest assured.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Shuu put his hand on Minato’s shoulder. A faint vibration was felt.

“I guess it was bad of me to keep things a secret… After the accident, I distanced myself from the kyudojo and didn’t contact anyone. Because of that, I made Shuu worry as well. I’m sorry, Shuu.”

“I understand, there’s no problem. I’m glad that your mom was able to watch your shooting.”

He responded by lightly patting Shuu’s hand on his shoulder. Afterwards, something spilled over and wetted his hakama.

Around that time, Kuon, a first-year from Kirisaki, was stretching his legs on a chair. He was watching the footage of the yabusame competition that took place the other day on his phone.

“Fujiwara-senpai, how beautiful you are. In comparisons, how impudent that commoner is!”

On the screen was Minato answering interview questions. Kuon tossed his phone onto the side chair and grabbed several pages of documents.

This was the report from the detective agency.

“Narumiya Minato, born on December 21. Graduated from Kotonoha Elementary School, graduated from Kirisaki Middle School, has a medical history… What, he has such an obvious weakness? This might be useful.”

Kuon uncrossed his legs and stood up. He called for a maid.

“Give this detective his completion bonus. Also, tell him that there are additional requests. The others are incompetent, so keep them out of my sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the maid left, the corner of Kuon’s mouth raised.

The sound of a flute resounded through Yata Shrine.

Gagaku music was being performed to the members of the Kazemai kyudo club, who were gathered in the front shrine. Minato and the others, sitting in seiza, waited impatiently for the moment when the performance would begin.

Gagaku was a form of Japanese classical music, and was a unique art that combines traditional Japanese music and dance with music introduced from the continent. It boasted a history of more than 1,200 years, and many people might have heard it at hatsumode or Shinto wedding ceremonies.

The performers were Masa-san, Ren, and Masa-san’s mother. Masa-san’s mother was in charge of the main melody and played the hichiriki, Masa-san played the shou, and Ren played the ryuuteki. (2) They were all made from bamboo. The hichiriki, shou, and ryuuteki were called the “three pipes,” and the taiko, kakko, and shouko were called the “three drums.” The wagon and biwa were also included at times.

The shou represented the sound of heaven, the light that shined from heaven. The ryuuteki was the sound of the sky, the cry of a dragon that rushed between heaven and earth freely. The hichiriki was said to express the sounds of the earth and the voices of the people, and it was believed that by playing these instruments together, it was possible to create the universe.

“I’ve heard that Western music adopts the rhythm of the heartbeat, and Japanese classical music adopts the rhythm of breathing,” Keyaki whispered to Kanbayashi.

“It’s truly elegant music. It sounds like the divine voice of heaven, or the voice of the sobbing dead.”

Ryouhei and Nanao also joined the conversation.

“It’s not the dead, it’s a cute dragon. Pyuu, hyororororo.”

“That’s the sound of a water whistle. Isn’t it more like fuaan, kyuu, bobobobobobo?”

A shadow descended over Kaito’s face.

“You guys talk too much. Shut up and listen.”

The three girls decided not to listen to the boys’ innocent conversations.

After the performance was finished, Minato ran to the performers.

“Masa-san, may I ask you a question?”

“Is it about the priesthood stuff from the other day?”

“No, that’s not it. A long time ago, I read an explanation book on the ‘Heart Sutra’ after Saionji-sensei told me that I didn’t study hard enough, but there’s a part that I was confused about.”

In Buddhism, there were the “six sense organs,” the “six objective fields of the senses,” and the “six consciousnesses.” All together, they were called the “eighteen components of perception.”

The “six sense organs” were the sense organs humans were equipped with—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

The “six objective fields of the senses” were the objects of perception—color, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental presentation.

 The “six consciousnesses” were the perception that arose from the six sense organs perceiving the six objective fields of the senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and reasoning.

“The Buddha gave words to the materials and phenomena of this world, classifying them in detail. He also taught that we should abandon our obsessions. But the Heart Sutra says that the organ called the ‘eye’ perceived ‘color’ and perceived it as ‘beautiful.’ So, it’s saying that all of this is just an illusion, right?”

“Yeah, that’s probably the most common interpretation.”

“I also found it strange that the sixth of the six sense organs was translated as ‘mind.’ The others are names of parts of the body, so why is the sixth one different?”

“I can’t answer that right away due to my lack of study, but I think that what the Heart Sutra was trying to convey wasn’t so much the first half, the empty mind, but the second half. If I were the writer, I would put the important points in the conclusion.”

“The ending is an incantation, right? ‘Let’s all chant it together,’ like that. I thought the theme of the Heart Sutra was to learn the truth and wisdom of the universe, wasn’t it?”

“If you cannot attain enlightenment unless you give up earthly desires, then most people would be unable to reach this state. Because wanting to save people is also greed. Heaven wouldn’t give to man useless things. Kukai taught that the desire for food, sleep, excretion, and sex, are all of the status of a Buddha. If the desire to eat and sleep disappear, the survival of living beings is in danger. The Buddhist teaching to abandon greed means ‘do not covet, do not go too far.’”

Ren, who was listening nearby, laughed lightly.

“Archers have to learn Buddhism too? Sounds busy. Sorry to interrupt, but I think it’s time to call it a night. Masaki, you have another errand to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, got it. Sorry, Minato, next time.”

Masa-san hurriedly left the scene. The other members were also preparing to go home. Minato realized that he was the only one left behind and was about to follow everyone else.

Suddenly, he felt something like an electric current near his shoulder blade. He turned around and saw Ren with one finger outstretched.

“You’re a sensitive person, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I just put my fingers on your back and sent some qi. Is your sensitivity hereditary? Does it run in your family? Actually, Masaki is also sensitive, even more so than me. He can see and hear all sorts of things. Minato-kun, what is the color of the outside lights of Yata Shrine to you?”

“It’s usually rainbow-colored. I’d say the purple is deeper.”

“To most people, myself included, it only looks white or yellowish. You may be one of those people who don’t realize they have a strong connection to the gods, or in other words, nature. Since both of you are spiritually inclined, you should ask a lot of questions now. That guy may not be back for a while. And I don’t know if he’ll continue coaching at Kazemai.”

“…What?”

“It seems that he found something he couldn’t catch if he didn’t chase it now. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him back.”

“What do you mean, you can’t hold him back?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Ren took off his eboshi hat and put it on Minato’s head, then turned on his heel.

As always, Ren did nothing but tease and didn’t talk about the important parts. To only drop hints and not inform him of anything was too malicious if he was doing this while knowing that it would cause him a lot of stress. It would be fine if it was good news, but that would transform into anger if it was a rejection email.

The sound of the gagaku music lingered in his ears, and the scar on his left side started to itch.

Minato stood there, holding the hat.

One Sunday, Minato was riding his bike.

He was taking a short trip to town to go shopping. He was buying daily necessities for the summer.

The wind caressing his neck felt comfortable. The sky was blue with rising clouds. Flowers were in full bloom in the gardens of the houses he passed, and he saw two cats sleeping snuggled together. A dragonfly was flying parallel to Minato’s speed, but he wondered how far it would follow.

After passing through the crowd, he parked his bike in front of a store. It was a casual clothing store. While looking at the suggestions for coordinated outfits, he proceeded to the department he was here for.

On the way there, someone called out his name.

“Minato?”

“Masa-san.”

“I saw a bike similar to yours in front of the store, but I didn’t think you would really be here. You came all the way here by bike? I thought your house is a long way from here.”

“I also just wanted to ride my bike. There’s a hole in my jeans. Which one do you think is better?”

“Let’s see, you look good in the classic indigo blue, straight-leg style. For the upcoming season, chino shorts would also look good.”

The two looked around the store. They separated for a while and then promised to meet up again at the exit.

Masa-san handed Minato a package.

“If you want, you can take this guy home too. I think it’ll go well with the jeans from earlier.”

“Huh? Oh, t-thanks. Um, actually, I also…”

Minato also held out a gift-wrapped package containing clothes. It was the exact same wrapping, only the color of the ribbon was different. Both people were momentarily speechless.

“We ended up exchanging gifts.”

“Haha, that’s right.”

“Thank you, I’ll try it on as soon as I get home. I’ve also bought some other stuff, so I’ll give them to the other Kazemai members tomorrow. Minato, are you free right now? You can come and pick up the book I was telling you about.”

“Oh, the book that wasn’t for sale.”

Masa-san had come by car, so they loaded Minato’s bike into the car, and Minato sat in the passenger seat. After a while, they arrived at the parking lot of a two-story apartment building. Masa-san’s apartment was a one-bedroom apartment, and it was built not long ago. When Minato first visited, he imagined that Masa-san was living in a four-and-a-half tatami room that was built over thirty years ago. “What kind of image do you have of me?” Masa-san had lamented. There were ornamental plants by the window, Scandinavian-patterned cushions on the couch, and a Shinto altar enshrined on the wall, as expected of a priest. Everything was neat and tidy, but Minato noticed a prescription bag in the corner of the kitchen. What was more, there was something sitting there that didn’t fit the season at all.

“Masa-san, the kotatsu…shouldn’t you be putting that away soon?”

“I was too lazy to clean the kotatsu futon, so I just left it there.”

Masa-san opened the closet and took out three cardboard boxes. He spread his arms out towards them, which looked heavy.

“Search to your heart’s content.”

“Were you tired of searching? Is that why you called me here? That’s what I thought. You’re so lazy.”

He found the book he was looking for when the box was almost empty. After putting it on the table, Minato and Masa-san sat down at the kotatsu facing each other. Their feet were touching, and they both laughed.

Minato was searching for a book titled The Archery Saint Awa Kenzou—The Representative of Heaven, Earth, and Nature by Sakurai Yasunosuke. It was published to commemorate the 120th anniversary of Awa Kenzou’s birth, so it was thick and heavy.

Masa-san slid his long fingertips over the cover, as though caressing something dear.

“Awa-hanshi’s words are difficult to understand unless you have a background in Buddhism, Shinto, or Confucianism, but this book explains the ‘path of shooting’ in detail. Beyond a hundred shots and hundred hits, there are the ‘one shot and expire’ and ‘shari misei.’ Shari misei refers to the inherent manifestation of someone’s inherent Buddha nature or divinity through archery. It involves letting go of negative emotions such as worry and anger, and it emphasizes dantian breathing. He even said that ‘Takamagahara is inside people’s stomachs.’” (3)

“Saionji-sensei told me once to listen to the voice in my stomach, not head. ‘One shot and expire’ is the teaching of ‘you died with a single shot. Now, become a newborn baby.’ So, I wonder if shari misei is growing even further from a baby.”

“In fact, the hundred shot-hundred hit level is the lowest of the five stages called ‘shakai,’ and it’s still at the entry level of ‘learning shooting.’ However, Awa-hanshi says that even if you don’t hit a hundred shots, you can still reach the realm of one shot and expire and shari misei. He also taught kyudo at high schools, and it’s said that he loved young people very much. When his disciples shoot with all their might, he would embrace them and cry with joy.”

“I’ll take my time to read it. …Um, Masa-san, Ren-san said something recently…”

“Did he say something again?”

“Um, something about your eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes are fine. Because I’m living in a place surrounded by so much greenery.”

“That’s right. I also grew up in the mountains.”

It was weird to forcefully ask someone about something they were keeping secret. Nothing was clear yet, so he was sure Masa-san would tell him if it was true.

Minato was about to return the book to where it was before and found another book at the bottom of the box. It was as though it was hidden away. He picked it up.

“There’s a name on this picture book. Maybe it got mixed up with someone else’s book? How do you read this?”

Minato was pointing at a name written in oil-based marker.

It read 玉守正樹.

“It’s ‘Tamamori Masaki.’ My old name.”

“Is it your old last name?”

“I changed it along with my first name. For me, my old name is a cursed name. I don’t really want to remember it.”

Masa-san had a bitter look on his face, which was unlike him.

Just like Ren the other day, these brothers had too many secrets. Minato didn’t care if he didn’t tell him the reason. But, it was too sad that he hated his own name.

“No, it isn’t, right? Iminas were used until the Meiji era, and they were important things that only the lord and his family knew about. The only time someone would tell it to another person is when they are proposing marriage.”*

“…Huh, that’s bad. Seiya would beat me up if he finds out about this. So, can I hear your answer?”

“Answer?”

“Your answer to my proposal.”

“Huh? I-I don’t get that kind of thing.”

“That kind of thing, huh…”

“I’ve never thought about that kind of thing.”

“You’re calling it ‘that kind of thing’ again.”

“You’re a terrible master.”

“Minato, you’re a surprising Urashima’s casket. I can’t even imagine what’s inside you.”

Masa-san chuckled. Apparently, Minato was being made fun of. Ugh, I seriously can’t win against this guy.

Minato stood up.

“I have to go home soon.”

“Shall I give you a ride?”

“It’s okay.”

When he pushed the doorknob, a gray sky spread out before him.

“Oh, it’s raining. I didn’t bring my raincoat today.”

“A rain that’s trying to prevent you from leaving, huh? Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Minato closed the door.

Previous | Next

[onehundredflamingos]

I’ve got a little snowball fight drabble for @theadultfandomproject ft. little Harry and Cassie (wolfstar’s baby girl by @industrations)

I wrote this one shot about little Cass a while back for anyone interested

Here ya have it <3

“Do you think they’re ever gonna come out?” James asked, laughing. “My snowball is melting, already!”

“Mine too,” Sirius said. “Better use it!” Sirius immediately launched his snowball, throwing it with perfect aim at his best friend, the packed snowball making contact against James’ bare cheek.

Sirius cackled as he turned to run, James hot on his heels.

“You two are idiots,” Regulus chided. “They’re almost ready, and you two are going to be left defenseless.”

Sirius stopped at once, turning to face James. “Oh, he’s ri—oof!” James’ snowball landed squarely against Sirius’ face, the snow flying into his mouth and making him sputter. He dragged his hand down his face, wiping away the icy flakes stuck in his beard.

“Prick,” he called to James, squatting down to scoop up another snowball, launching it at James, but missing by a hair. “Damn!”

All at once, there was commotion from across the clearing, soft-pitched war cries mingling with the sound of little feet shuffling through the snow.

“Get them!” Harry cried, him and Cassie rushing in opposite directions, jumpers curled up in front of them like little baskets, holding a mountain of snowballs each. They held the hem of their shirt up with one hand as the other scooped snowballs out one at a time, throwing them haphazardly toward the adults.

Regulus immediately launched his own half-melted snowball at Harry, just barely missing him—probably intentional, if Sirius had to guess.

“I don’t think so, Papa!” Harry called, laughing. He picked a snowball from his collection and threw it back at Regulus, hitting him square in his shoulder.

Regulus stumbled back, throwing the opposite hand up to his hit shoulder, feigning injury as Harry’s laughs floated on the wind, mingling with Cassie’s squeals.

“I’m gonna get you, Daddy!” Cassie called, running toward Sirius who immediately crouched behind James, using him as a shield.

“Get Uncle Jamie!” Sirius cried, holding onto the sides of James’ pant legs.

“Come on!” James moaned. “Am I the only one fighting? Lils help us out here!”

Lily looked down on the scene from her place on a low tree branch. She was swinging her feet, looking from the children to the adults and back again.

“Mum, help us get them!” Harry called up to her, pleading.

Lily laughed and jumped down, feet sinking into the snow. She scooped up handfuls of snow as she ran, flinging it loosely at James and Sirius as she went. “We’re gonna take you down!”

Sirius peered around James before making his way beside him and standing tall. Suddenly, it was a stand-off: three on three, everyone reaching down and scooping up new snowballs, feral grins on their faces.

“Everyone throw in 3… 2…,” James tried, but immediately Cassie was running forward, throwing a snowball from each hand as hard as she could at Sirius, seemingly spurred on by his screams of protest.

“You little cheat,” he breathed, scooping her up and digging his fingers into her sides, tickling her even through the thick fabric of her coat.

“Daddy!” she cried, trying to wriggle free. “Harry, get him!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” James yelled, trying to intercept Harry, but Regulus was too quick, throwing his own snowball at James, making him gasp. “Traitor!”

Regulus shook his head. “Just wanna watch my brother get taken down by a couple of kids.”

“You are a traitor!” Sirius cried.

“Those kids are menaces,” James said, quirking a brow.

“Just like their dads,” Lily said as she walked up to them, giving James and Sirius a pointed look. “They’re like little carbon copies of the two of you.”

Sirius looked up at James, wanting to deny it, wanting to retort that their children were nowhere near where James and he were when they were that age, but…

Sirius was suddenly pinned to the ground, genuinely attempting to fight against the weight of Cassie sitting on his chest. Harry was sprinkling snow into his hair and over his face, twisting his beard into little white locks.

“Cass, honey,” Remus called from right outside the back door of their home as he slowly emerged. “Why don’t you let your captive go, I’ve got hot cocoa!”

Cassie giggled before kissing Sirius on the cheek, jumping off him and running to Remus. Sirius could have kissed Remus then, for his impeccable timing; it had been getting hard to breathe, between the two kids and the cold air and the laughing.

“Go on,” Lily said encouragingly to Harry, nodding toward Remus. “You can have a cup too.”

“We’ve brought a cup for everyone,” Pandora said from right behind Remus, a tray of paper cups filled with hot cocoa in her hands. “And a black coffee for you, Reg,” she added with a wink at her best friend.

Sirius scoffed. Leave it to Regulus to be boring while everyone else was festive.

“Thanks, Pan,” Regulus said, ignoring Sirius altogether as he took the cup of coffee from her outstretched hand.

“Did you put marshmallows in mine?” Sirius asked, finally standing up from his place on the ground.

“Honestly, Siri,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. “It’s like you’re younger than the kids.”

Remus chuckled. “Yes, love. I’ve brought one with marshmallows for you and James. And the kids, of course.” He winked down at the children in question, both of whom wore chocolate mustaches as they nibbled on the melted marshmallows they had sucked out of their cups.

James reached out and slapped a high-five to Sirius’ palm before they both strode forward and grabbed their cups of hot cocoa. They tapped their cups against one another’s in cheers before sipping the hot drink.

“I’m gonna get you both back,” Sirius whispered, bending forward and looking Cassie and Harry in their eyes. He flashed a mischievous grin as he allowed his playful threat to sink in.

“After lunch,” Remus called, always the responsible one.

“After lunch, it’s on,” James said with a smirk, backing Sirius up.

The same mischievous look passed over all four faces as they sipped on their drinks, and okay, maybe Lily was right.

“You don’t stand a chance, Daddy,” Cassie muttered under her breath, pointing a finger at him.

“No,” Sirius said. “I really don’t, do I?”

“None of us do,” James whispered from beside him, and Sirius knew neither of them were talking about the snowball fight anymore.

They were talking about the surge of love around them—the hot cocoa in their hands, the pain in their cheeks from laughing so hard, the stiffness in their legs from chasing after the kids. They were talking about the memories they were making, even as time flew by around them, seasons changing and the kids growing.

Sirius stuffed it all down inside him, tucking the memory of his daughter’s and godson’s little laughs into his soul, promising to never forget any of it. He took another sip of his cocoa as he made one more promise, this one aloud.

“You’re not taking me down without a fight,” Sirius whispered, stepping back and packing up a snowball, everyone setting their cups down and following suit.

The snowball fight was on — lunch would have to wait.

[amatsuchan-eiliniel]

Hey pookie!! I got questions for Cheshire Rabbit!

1, How did they first meet?

2, Who fell first and who fell harder?

3, what are their dates usually like?

4, what are their love languages?

5, who’s the big spoon when they cuddle?

Hiii Muffin! Thank you for your Cheshire Rabbit ask!

Hopper and Che'nya simply met at NRC as Che'nya passed by to see Riddle and Trey per usual. He saw him alone running while saying "I'm late!". Soon, Hopper would jumped at the sudden appareance of a floating head. That's how they met basically!

I'd like to think Hopper fell first. Because he's a great romantic and that he simply had a crush on him more or less rapidly. But he didn't say it and kept it for himself for so long, until the declaration. He was very obvious, but tried to mask it.

I'd like to think their dates are simply simple dates like, as Aku said, reading sessions under a tree, or picnics (Hopper's idea), or just going outside with no particular aim. I think Hopper would sometimes propose romantic stuff to Che'nya, like going to the restaurant, to a coffee shop, resting near a lake, buying matching things,...

Hopper's love languages are physical touch (everytime) and quality time! But he also sometimes does acts of service! (And his favorite love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch)

I'd like to think Hopper is the little spoon, first he's smaller than Che'nya and secondly he's the perfect "little precious thing we want to protect", too shy to be a big spoon.

For Che'nya's part, I'll let @kiyomizuki answer!

Please be patient if the answer takes a moment!

[umlewis]

A chat with Lewis Hamilton

22 JUNE 2006

Lewis Hamilton's dominance in the GP2 series continued at Silverstone and took him ever closer to the tantalizing prospect of the young British driver jumping straight into a McLaren F1 seat next year.

The GP2 Championship leader captured the imagination of his home crowd as he romped to his second victory of the weekend, earning a standing ovation. After the race, fans were queuing up to give their congratulations, the praise always the same: "The Formula 1 was boring compared to you," as much a testament to F1's much more racing-friendly support series as to Hamilton's racing ability. However, there is no denying that Hamilton's breathtaking three abreast move on Clivio Piccione and championship rival Nelson Piquet, Jr. as they went into Becketts was a sign of raw talent, and one that made the home fans sit up and freshen up hopes of a new British star in F1.

Being in front of the adoring fans also whetted Hamilton's appetite for success.

"On the in-lap as I was coming in, I really could feel the buzz from the crowd; the amazing support," he says. "I couldn't hear the fans or anything but it just felt amazing, and you know they're all British, you can see all the flags. It's the best feeling to see that support, because usually you go to Europe and it's just not the same. They might cheer you on but it's nowhere near as immense as it is here."

Having dominated another round in GP2 and with Ron Dennis saying "There's no question that he'll be in F1 next season," the press is starting to think about the young Briton driving in F1 next year, especially as Jenson Button (who has been built up for so long) has yet to deliver the wins that they want. Hamilton says that he knew as early as during pre-season testing that racing in F1 in 2007 was a very real prospect:

"It wasn't that I was that confident but it was what I wanted to do. I knew that I had to win GP2 and dominate it as best as I can, like I did in Euro Formula 3 last year. Your results speak for themselves. Nico [Rosberg] and Heikki [Kovalainen] did it last season and if I can do it and do it better than them, then there's got to be a place for me in F1."

It could be said that Hamilton's strong finishes are a result of ART Grand Prix having the dominant car, but the second ART driver Alexandre Premat faired a lot better against Nico Rosberg last year than he has against the rookie Hamilton so far this season. When you consider also that Premat has much more experience in GP2 and that Rosberg has gone on to impress at Williams in F1, then the early signs suggest that Hamilton is ready for Formula 1. But will he hold out for a race drive?

"That's my goal, that's what I want. I am a racing driver. Testing doesn't really interest me, but if I didn't have an opportunity to race, a test seat on the Friday practice session would be perfect. That would be a good position to be in."

There's nothing wrong with starting out at a small team, like Fernando Alonso and Mark Webber did at Minardi. It allowed them to quietly get on with their business, away from any real expectation, and vitally they got to prove their ability, as any driver's pace is only ever judged by how they compare to their teammate. However, Hamilton is adamant that his aim is to drive at McLaren alongside the ever dominant and seemingly unbeatable Alonso. That would expose him at a time when he is learning. His argument, however, is that the stronger the teammate, the better it is for him.

Nothing seems to faze the 21 year old, and it appears his unique long-term relationship with McLaren-Mercedes that started when he was just twelve years old has given him an extraordinary inner belief, while high expectations have long ago taught him how to deal with pressure:

"They've had a major input into my career. Ron (Dennis) has paid very close attention to how I'm doing. He's not so much put pressure on me, but there is that pressure there as he wants me to succeed. He's proud, and I think he's quite emotionally involved in it, which is a good thing. He was out on the podium watching me today, and that's a great feeling. We've been friends and together for nine years now, so it's quite a long partnership considering I'm only 21. I just hope he gives me the opportunity to race for him next year."

Dennis has usually preferred to pay big fees for drivers, but he might be keen to show his rival, Sir Frank Williams, who was done very well out of taking chances on rookies-particularly Brits such as Damon Hill, David Coulthard, and Jenson Button-that he, too, can spot talent.

Williams has always enjoyed making champions out of drivers, where Dennis has gone for proven talent. Having secured the services of hottest property in Alonso, it seems like a very small risk to put a very talented youngster in the car next to him. His "emotional involvement," as Hamilton calls it, might just make him go with his heart on this one.