#hot And cold | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gravesightings · 2 months ago

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hot and cold / pt. 2

→ reader x jason voorhees → gender neutral reader → nsfw; reader has a vagina; multiple rounds; premature ejaculation; creampie; sloppy seconds; some sprinklings of mild obsession → [ part 1 / part 2 ]

the storm seemed to be getting worse by the second but you couldn’t help but be soothed by the sounds of the violent downpour from within the warm confines of the cabin. you’re unsure how long it’s been since the movie ended or when you had fallen asleep exactly but you’re still somehow in the same position you had fallen asleep in – seated comfortably on Jason’s lap.

earlier in the night you had recalled how cool his skin was to the touch but now he felt like a furnace almost. without thinking too much, you bury your face further into the crook of his neck. you feel him tense against you for a split second before relaxing again. you almost feel a little guilty for using him like a glorified heated blanket but the drumming of his heart against his chest convinces you otherwise.

you shift again slightly with a huff, feeling the soreness of your legs from what you could only assume to be hours of being stuck in the same position. you feel giant hands on you, slowly maneuvering your limbs around to lay more comfortably over his own body.

does he know you’re awake? you doubt it.

you let your body fall limply to his touch, curious to see what he’ll do next.

in the midst of his adjusting your position to his liking, the edge of your shirt catches against his fingers and you feel the warmth of his touch against your bare skin. the poor man freezes instantly and you swear you could hear the internal battle going on in his head. he fights and fights but ultimately ends up tragically losing the battle against his self-control when you had “accidentally” brushed your lips against the base of his neck.

a shaky exhale escapes past his mask and you feel only mildly guilty for teasing him like this. his hand braves further underneath your shirt, anchoring at your side to press his calloused hand against your soft skin. his palm feels hot against you but he doesn’t move it further than that.

a gentle weight presses against the side of your head and you could only assume he’s pressing his face against it. when you hear a deep inhale, you feel your heart beat a little faster. was he smelling you? Jason tilts his head slightly and you feel his mask press against your neck, stopping to inhale deeply again. he was absolutely smelling you.

something underneath you stirs and you press your lips together in an attempt to quiet yourself when you realize he was getting hard just from having you so close to him, having you draped so nicely on his lap like you belong there. your body responds in kind, a sudden intense craving to be filled on the spot makes you shudder.

you feel his calloused palm against the exposed skin of your thighs and you’re suddenly not so sure how long you can keep pretending to be asleep. a whine finally escapes past your lips when he squeezes. his body tenses up at the sudden noise.

finally, you turn your head ever-so-slightly to flutter your eyes open to meet his own. to your surprise, he already had his gaze fixated on you, shooting you an accusatory stare.

the prominent blush across your face was all the confirmation he needed and in turn, you buried your face in his chest in shame. of course he would’ve known you were faking being asleep. if you could hear his heartbeat against your chest, then he sure as hell would’ve felt yours too. his chest rumbled in response to your reaction, your sudden shyness complimenting his own.

the thought of him just letting it happen hits you – he knew you were awake this whole time. he could’ve up and left any time he wanted. he could still leave. and yet here he remained, caging you against his arms sporting a half-mast.

“can I kiss you?” you ask rather boldly and his eyes widen at the sudden question. was it so weird to ask at this point? surely all of this touching was leading somewhere, unless you were sorely mistaken and all this was already well past his comfort zone. his eyes dart around nervously, as if the answer he was looking for was somewhere around the room.

wordlessly, you lean in and press your mouth flush against his mask – right where his lips would be. Jason stopped breathing altogether. the surprise in his eyes was prominent. he was afraid for a second that you wanted him mask off for it so this was completely unexpected. once you pulled away slightly you noticed how bright red his ears were and you couldn’t help but smile.

you feel both of his hands grip your hips, keeping you steady. he nudges his mask against your face, your nose bumping slightly against the plastic. more. he wanted more.

it was a little strange at first, kissing a mask with so many holes and dents on it. if it made him react like this though, you were more than happy to oblige. with both of your hands rested against his jaw you peppered his face with kisses; judging by the way his eyes fluttered closed, you could tell he was enjoying every second of it.

one of his hands leave your hips to carefully tip his mask back, just enough to kiss you, before placing it firmly behind your neck to fully press his lips against yours. he didn’t give you time to react, nor did he push his mask off further – it didn’t really matter to you either way. all you could focus on was his lips moving against yours. his kisses were soft at first, clumsy and unsure.

it didn’t last long however with how eagerly you responded to him. both of his hands were on either side of your face now, lips moving against you so intensely that his kisses turned into something more desperate. Jason kissed you with so much hunger that he almost crushed you in his arms on the spot.

your thighs were beginning to ache again and you decide to rest your full weight on him, a moan escaping past your lips when you feel the prominent bulge straining against his pants. your lust had spiked in the tenfold so you instinctively ground yourself against his hard-on, craving the delicious friction. he pulled away suddenly, hands flying back to your hips to steady them in place.

dazed, you look back at him with a confused expression. it was a sight to behold – the feared Jason Voorhees, mask partly off, lips swollen, fully erect and red in the face from a little make-out session.

there was no escaping it now. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get him like this ever again.

you practically throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again in an attempt to reassure him this time. his hands are kept glued to your hips and they do a pretty good job at keeping you still, though you could feel his cock twitch at your persistent attempts at grinding on him.

“please,” you press your lips against his ear and it earns a sharp inhale from him, indicating that his resolve was crumbling by the second.

you pull back from him to place your hands against his chest and he stares back at you, even with his mask back in its place you could tell he was strained and wary.

he’s betrayed. you’re seducing him! how could you? wait, what are you doing?

his sight falls further and further down as he follows your hands, reaching to unbutton his pants. his grip against you loosens ever-so-slightly and you take the opportunity to reach beneath his pants to palm him with your bare hand.

holy shit, he was big.

your fingers wrapped around his cock delicately, stroking him experimentally without actually taking it out. Jason lets out a strained moan, his grip on your hips faltering as he tilts his head back at the softness of your hands around his cock. truthfully you were becoming a bit nervous – he was absolutely huge and despite the embarrassingly soaked underwear you were sporting, you’re not sure if he could actually fit.

this man was more than double your size but you’re not about to let that stop you. he surprises you again when he glides his hands from your hips to your ass, squeezing it until he earns himself a surprised gasp. you meet eyes with him and he holds your gaze with such possessiveness it takes your breath away.

keep your pretty eyes on him. just him and no one else.

with your newfound (albeit misplaced) confidence, you pull his cock out of its confines, eyes widening in surprise when it stood rigid and tall, reaching up to his belly button.

you’re fucked.

he’s smooth and uncut as you expected, the head of his cock swollen and oozing with precum at the slit. you knew he was big but you weren't quite expecting him to be as thick as a soda can.

you're absolutely fucked.

Jason has had enough of your staring so he decides to grab fistfuls of your clothes and pulls mindlessly, the fabric tearing easily with his strength. effectively out of your trance, you yelp in surprise and he only gives you a threatening look in response.

you’ve been staring all you want, why can’t he?

the masked man pulls the remnants of your clothes off and starts taking in your exposed body before him.

despite his apparent eagerness, there’s a slight tremble in his hands that tells you he hasn’t done this before so you place your hands over his reassuringly and use them to trail along your own body. it’s his turn to ogle you and it doesn’t take long until he starts exploring your body without your aid – grabbing and squeezing experimentally. he goes off on the noises you make, only tearing his eyes away from your flesh to admire the expressions you make for him. once he started moving on his own, you made quick work to rid him of his shirt.

all of a sudden you’re jerked forward, chest pressing flush against his own as he tries to angle you in place. the blunt head of his cock prods experimentally at your entrance and you hear him inhale sharply when it gets coated with your arousal.

it’s embarrassing how wet you are.

“hold on, Jason I—” you whimper against him uselessly as he glides his cock against your entrance, eagerly coating himself with your wetness. “you’re too big… I don’t know if it can fit” you plead with him and you feel his chest rumble in response before he starts rutting his cock between your lips, the wet friction against your sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

you’re dazed at this point, settling your hands on his shoulders for support as he continued to thrust deliberately against your wet cunt. “Jason, I don’t think it’ll—” you look back up at him and the dark expression in his eyes leaves you at a loss for words.

he’ll make it fit. you got him all needy, now you need to take responsibility.

the head of his cock catches at your entrance and he grips your hips hard enough to bruise. Jason is breathing heavily now, sweat beading across his chest as he stares back at you wordlessly. it was taking all of his strength to hold back. despite his intense gaze it seems like he was giving you one last chance to back out.

you respond by slowly sinking on his cock. tears welled up at the corners of your eyes at the sudden intrusion but you feel a hand on your cheek immediately, his thumb brushing the moisture away.

even with how wet you were it still took a lot to take him in without preparation. he was splitting you open, stretching you out well beyond your limits – god, he was so fucking thick. a pained groan escapes your throat as you realize you’ve only taken half of him, and he in turn presses the back of his head further into the headrest of the couch to keep whatever shred of control he has left.

you whimpered pitifully as you continue to sink further and further down his cock until you were fully seated. the feeling of being filled to the brim with his dick made you dizzy, even more so when you felt the spongy head of his cock press threateningly against your cervix. you could feel every twitch of his cock as your walls struggled to accommodate him. “Jason, fuck—” you cussed as he snaked his arms around your waist, pushing his hips up until he was balls deep in your tight cunt.

without warning, you felt a sudden surge of heat swell inside of you as he caged you tightly in his arms.

holy shit, he was already cumming.

the masked man let out a garbled moan as his body shook, so deep and guttural that you felt it in your bones. to your surprise, you felt him fucking you through his own orgasm – desperate, hurried thrusts that made your insides coil in delight. he was prolonging his climax as best he could. Jason had his head held back, eyes rolled back in pure pleasure as he continued to fill you with his seed, thick and potent.

it took him a minute to compose himself, feeling like he had briefly dropped his brain at some point and started thinking with his dick instead. it was so instinctual; he didn’t realize how badly he wanted to rail you until you were sat all cute on his dick like you belonged there. his post-nut clarity hit him like a train however, as he flinched when he realized what he had done and his hands shot up immediately to give you a quick look-over.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, even finding his sudden panic endearing. you were still very much sat on his dick with his cum in you. (he was still at half-mast, even.) the gears started turning in his head and you could practically see him go through the phases: guilt, shame, self-loathing, rage.

you could only witness so much of his mental breakdown until you decide it’s enough so you gently hold his face in your hands and pepper his mask with kisses much like you did earlier. “I adore you,” you start, moving to press feathery kisses across his neck as you feel his heartbeat increasing against your own chest. “I have for some time now,” you continue with an experimental grind of your hips. it was much easier to take him in his current state, especially with the excessive amount of cum acting as a lube.

“and I’m sorry I’ve let my—ah, my desires get the better of me before I could say anything. I can’t help it when you look at me like you want to keep me all to yourself.” you explain further, jolting slightly when he starts to move against you again, holding your gaze with his own. “…please, Jason. I want that more than anything.” his breath hitches.

“take me all you want, I’m yours to kee—fuck!” he feels his blood rush straight to his dick and he’s fully erect again like it’s nothing, grunting in response before shoving his cock into you as far as it could go. that’s all he needed to hear.

his, all his.

he repeats in his head, arms locked around you so dangerously tight he knew if he wasn’t careful enough he might break a rib or two.

all for him.

the masked man bounces you on his cock like you were made for him, savoring the way your insides suck him in greedily. he feels a lot less embarrassed now for cumming so quickly.

you wanted it, after all—no, needed it.

needed him.

if you needed to be his this badly, cooing at him so sweetly even as he’s mindlessly rutting into you like an animal, then by god he’s taking you. he’s keeping you all for himself, just like you want him to.

Jason feels his head going blank as he nears his peak again and judging by the pitch of your voice, it seems like you were getting close too.

the man stands so abruptly you could do nothing but hold onto him like a ragdoll. he makes sure to keep himself nestled inside you as he shifts positions. you feel your world spinning for a moment before you're being set down gently onto the pile of sodden cotton blankets below. you’re unsure at this point if it was because of your own arousal or if it was Jason’s cum leaking out of you.

you feel a rough, calloused hand on your cheek, giving it a few gentle taps as if to check if you were fully conscious or not. your eyes refocus just in time to take in the sight of him pushing your legs further apart and you moan shamelessly. he folds himself over you to claim you deeper and it feels like being engulfed in a fire.

the head of his cock presses purposefully against your cervix again and it takes your breath away.

god, you were so full already.

you feel his fingers press against your face to turn you towards him and he meets your eyes with a deadly look. he slowly pulls his cock out just until the head remained before slamming down into your insides so hard that the couch creaked in protest, knocking all the breath out of your lungs.

Jason holds your face in place, not breaking eye contact as he does it again.

mine.

you unravel underneath him before he could do it again, cumming so hard that your eyes roll to the back of your head. a deep groan forces out of his throat as you tighten around him and he takes great effort not to bury another load in you.

he instead takes your sudden tightness as a challenge and does it again, shoving his cock back into you so hard that you start seeing stars.

then he does it again, and again, going faster with each thrust until he’s threatening to break you open to make room for more of his seed.

Jason only pauses to fold you in half, maneuvering your half-limp body around to position you into a mating press. where did he even learn how to do that? any hope to form a coherent thought is quickly thrown out the window once he starts mounting you like an animal and you could do nothing but drool and babble about how good he’s making you feel.

miraculously he seems to understand your incoherent rambles and praises—and in response, he drills into you so hard you’re convinced he’s doing it to mold your insides into the shape of him.

as you’re rapidly approaching your second climax, you feel hard plastic against the side of your face and you instinctively throw your arms around him and bury your face in his neck like your life depended on it. the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes across the empty cabin in a steady rhythm.

your second climax hits you so hard you start trembling, mouth opening into a silent scream before biting down onto your lover’s neck.

Jason groans as he feels your teeth on him, his own hips snapping to a halt as he shoots his second load into you so abruptly he starts seeing white. hot, sticky cum floods into the deepest parts of you and you could do nothing but ride out your own climax, your insides sucking it all up greedily. you feel him rock against you slowly, as if to avoid any more of his seed from spilling.

“easy, big guy. if you keep doing that I might cum again” you mumble, voice hoarse from overuse. the behemoth of a man stares back down at you with a slight tilt of his head.

is that such a bad thing?

“are you serious? you’ve cum in me twice already!” you furrow your brows at him in disbelief and he says nothing as he sits back on his heels to move your legs to his sides, the rocking of his hips slowly but deliberately increasing in pace.

“Jason!” you jab at him playfully as you stifle a moan. how is he still hard? he responds by staring you down and taking your hips in his hands and rubbing circles into them. that’s what you get for seducing him, now deal with the consequences.

the storm continued to batter down on the cabin as Jason picked up the pace again despite your weak protests, the pile of movies sat on the coffee table long forgotten. he would brave the cold outside again and again if it meant he could always rely on you to warm him up after.

#jason voorhees #slashers #jason voorhees x reader #slasher x reader #graves.txt #hot and cold #spicy #over 3k words? i'm ashamed. i went a little overboard perhaps #listen. needy touch-starved running on instincts alone jason is my guilty pleasure...... is it a little ooc? yes. leave me alone

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damien-wolfram-art · 4 months ago

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Ghost Can – and Will Dance at Weddings

A sequel to: “Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@hashimada-week

It was a beautiful spring day in The Uchiha village. The warm golden midday sun dappled through the rows of cherry blossom trees, yuinou wedding gifts, and outdoor speakers that framed a massive promenade. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the pink petals and carried their lightly sweet scent over the hundreds of guests gathered before a brazier that was situated beneath an ornately crafted torii gate.

Even with all the beauty and the pleasantness of the season, Hashirama had never felt so tense. He was standing just behind his younger brother, Tobirama. His wife, Mito, his parents, and his three children were situated behind him, but his attention was centered dead ahead where he sensed a growing bitter iciness. Izuna Uchiha would be coming from there, but instinct told him that it wasn’t Izuna he was sensing.

The gruff voice of Fugaku Uchiha, one of the longest standing members of the Uchiha Clan, announced the start of the procession over the speakers, shocking Hashirama to attention, “Welcome, honored guests, to this momentous occasion! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju. Let us revel in the joy and love that fills the air!”

Ahead of his section, Hashirama sensed the chill growing closer. Izuna was approaching with a lit torch held close to his chest. He was positively radiant in its amber glow and Tobirama, who looked more exhausted than usual, even managed to perk up upon seeing him in his matching wedding kimono. Normally, seeing his brother light up this way would spark joy in Hashirama’s heart, but as the procession moved forward, Izuna and Tobirama turned to approach the torii gate together. Then, Hashirama saw him– Madara Uchiha.

The squealing flutes and staccato drum beat of live gagaku music accompanied the procession. Hashirama was late to his queue- too busy staring at the undead man whose sharingan red eyes looked right through him, leaving him feeling frozen to his spot. Before he knew it, he was over a meter behind and his wife, who was equally surprised by the appearance of the ghost, had to nudge her husband to get him moving. By then, he had to jog past the ghost’s mother to catch up and walk alongside him.

To the left of the procession, past Madara, were the many eyes of the Uchiha village; their wonderfully crafted gifts of tapestries and iron works were scattered all around them. To the right, although Hashirama certainly wasn’t paying much attention there, were the guests from The Leaf. They brought gifts of trees symbolizing growth and stability in a relationship as well as fruitful love lives. They brought sake barrels full of both sake and mochi to break open. Many of The Leaf’s denizens also brought gifts of honey wine: a delicacy the Senju had come across in their time as nomadic forest dwellers. It was said that after some heavy rain, water laden bee hives were harvested and that was the start of a Senju tradition. A gift of honey wine was a gift of hope for the couple to go on to live their lives in sweetness though some had snakes in the bottles. This imparted a different meaning. Many believed that the snakes would bestow their strength, stamina, and most importantly virility to their drinkers.

When the procession reached its destination past all the standing guests and the generous gifts, Hashirama looked to Madara again. He wanted to say something, but whenever he thought about speaking to him, his chest ached, and his words were trapped in his throat. There was a quiet murmur from the crowd– especially on the Uchiha side, but no one dared to interrupt the ceremonies. Hashirama and his family sat to the right of the brazier. Izuna’s family, Obito, and Fugaku’s family sat to the left. Tobirama and Izuna stood on their respective families’ sides of the brazier.

Another staccato drumbeat silenced the music and signaled the end of the procession. Fugaku approached from behind the couple, gesturing openly toward Hashirama as he began an important address, “Before we commence this sacred ceremony, it is essential to express our deepest gratitude and acknowledge the unwavering support of a beloved brother, Hashirama Senju. As Tobirama's elder brother, Hashirama has not only played an integral role in his life, helping Tobirama thrive even amidst challenging times, but has also made a generous goshugi contribution, making this wedding possible.”

Hashirama bowed awkwardly at the acknowledgement. While it was true that he had provided the funding for most of the ceremonies and that he loved his younger brother dearly, given the Madara shaped elephant in the room, he was rightly uncomfortable with receiving such high praise. He couldn’t help but look in Madara’s direction to see how he was taking it all. To his surprise, Madara seemed to care very little about him. The dark suited man was simply looking forward with a pleasant smile on his face.

Another drumbeat brought Hashirama to attention once more. Fugaku had his head bowed in reverence. Tobirama and Izuna followed suit. Then, the crowd did the same. “During this momentous occasion, we also take a moment to honor the memory of a cherished father, Tajima Uchiha. As Izuna's father and a former leader of our clan, Tajima's spirit lives on in all of our hearts. We know he would be immensely proud of the remarkable example Izuna has set for the Uchiha clan. Though he may not physically be with us today, his presence is felt, reminding us of the significance of family and the enduring bonds that transcend time,” Fugaku said with a serious and prideful tone.

Though his head was bowed, Hashirama’s eyes kept wandering to his left. Madara was playing along and miraculously, no one was questioning his attendance despite his life being lost over a year ago. He couldn’t fathom how his younger brother had pulled it off.

He remembered warning Tobirama time and time again that the dead were not to be trifled with. He had scolded him endlessly for having a god complex. He’d told him that a jutsu to bring back the dead would never work, and that people would start asking questions. He was wrong.

Everyone raised their heads and Fugaku’s voice took on a slightly more uplifting tone; this was difficult for him since he was usually a very serious man, but he did his best, “Today, Izuna and Tobirama stand before us ready to embark on a journey of love, commitment, and shared dreams. For the Uchiha, fire is a powerful force that can cause great destruction, but it can also warm us, bring us together, and shelter us.”

Hashirama’s dark eyes widened at the mention of fire and guilt rose up within him, making him suddenly nauseous. “To share your Flame with another– it is to wholeheartedly accept them for all their flaws and to cast aside all judgements. It is to love them unconditionally with every fiber of your being. Furthermore, it is a promise to forever learn and improve together,” said Fugaku; Hashirama swallowed– hard.

“As The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju, let us join together to celebrate their union and offer them our blessings, support, and well-wishes. May their love grow stronger with each passing day. May they find happiness, success, and fulfillment in one another. With joy and anticipation, let us commence this blessed wedding ceremony!”

Izuna was smiling when he passed the torch to Tobirama. Tobirama took his duty very seriously. As the flutes rang out again, he took the torch that was marked with a white and red tipped uchiwa fan, the crest of the Uchiha. With the utmost of care, he then held it over the brazier between them and it burst alight.

There was a musical flare before some silence. Then, Fugaku led the applause and said, “so, The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju! With this Flame, we recognize Tobirama as Uchiha. May this blazing brazier serve as a symbol of his acceptance into our clan!”

From there, the ceremony moved on. Hashirama was left feeling shell shocked. He clapped for a little too long and his wife needed to correct him again. Feeling her small hand rest on his thick forearm he looked down at it; understanding her concern, he apologized profusely and quietly.

Next, the couple of the hour began the ritual of San San Kudo. As a koto player from the Uchiha began plucking some strings, Fugaku moved to be seated and his wife, Mikoto, took his place, quietly filling the first of three sakazuki cups with three splashes of sake. Izuna graciously accepted the cup with a bow, raising and lowering it twice before drinking. He then returned it to Mikoto respectfully. She filled it in the same way once more and then passed it to Tobirama, who mirrored Izuna’s movements perfectly. During this first drink, the couple thought of their parents and the bonds that were made leading up to their union. During the second cup, they thought of their human flaws of hatred, passion and ignorance. For hatred, funnily enough, they thought of each other and their troubled pasts. For passion, Izuna thought of his brother, Madara; his passion had proven fatal after all. Tobirama however, was still thinking of Izuna and feeling only a little guilty about it. For ignorance they both thought of Hashirama and with the third cup they were released from these flaws.

If only Hashirama could have been so lucky. Instead, he had to endure what was admittedly a beautifully crafted sado tea ceremony hosted by Mikoto with all of the important seated guests; this included Madara who was sat directly across from him and maintained the same stoic aloofness that he had throughout the other ceremonies. After that, came the hiroen reception party, where those seated maintained their positions and partook of a meal consisting of some of the wedding couple’s favorite foods.

There was a bountiful spread of river fish, prawns, pickled vegetables, white rice, miso soup, sekihan– red bean rice (for good luck), inarizushi, more tea, honey wine, and of course sake. It was a filling and delicious meal. Still, Hashirama couldn’t help but feel like he was the only one uncomfortable around an eating, drinking, and talking corpse.

He typically loved these sorts of events, but at this one he found himself drinking in excess to cope with his discomfort. He was also uncharacteristically quiet which garnered the attention of his younger brother. Naturally, Tobirama was quite busy making sure Izuna was happy so addressing his elder brother’s discomfort would have to wait, but this didn’t stop him from noticing the glazed over look in Hashirama’s eyes even when the cake cutting was announced.

There was music playing again. It was louder, more jovial, and less traditional. The formalities were finally coming to an end.

Hashirama was fixated on Madara– his right leg bouncing with anxiety. To him the reception party felt as if it were underwater. He watched as Madara was served a slice, bowed courteously, and began to eat– all with a smile. At some point he too was served a slice, but when he didn’t touch it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Elder brother?”

The room suddenly got louder. Hashirama’s empty eyes turned to meet Tobirama’s compassionate red gaze. “Huh?”

“You haven’t touched the cake. Are you feeling well?” Asked Tobirama’s deeper voice quietly.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must have just been lost in the moment.”

Tobirama rubbed at Hashirama’s larger shoulder and sighed, “I see. Care to join me for a walk then? I’d like the company and could use some freshening up. I’d hate to bother Izuna with such trifles when he’s having such a good time.”

Hashirama looked over at Izuna who was happily chatting with his mother and his revenant brother. He was beginning to feel sick again, so he opted to join Tobirama, “sounds good.”

The two walked some distance away from the reception party to a private spot amongst the cherry blossom trees before Tobirama stopped abruptly. “I know this is hard for you,” he began strictly, “but can you at least Try to consider how your behavior is being perceived?”

Hashirama was used to Tobirama getting frustrated with him, but after holding his tongue for so long he could no longer. “Tobirama,” he said in the tone he used when chastising him. “What did I say would come from this- this affront against nature? It’s no good. Can’t you see?”

“This “affront against nature” has made Izuna very happy. On this day he should have nothing but happiness! I see nothing wrong with that!”

“He’s a dead man Tobirama!”

Tobirama rubbed at the bridge of his nose and groaned, making quick rigid motions with his arms as he spoke, “I am very aware of that. I am aware that you were the one to make that happen. I am aware of his crimes against The Leaf, but right now none of that matters! Obito is here as well and so long as he disappears after the festivities are over, I have promised not to pursue him either! Both he and Madara share one thing in common: Izuna sees them as brothers. In the same way that Izuna has turned his eyes away from your transgressions, elder brother, so too must we!”

Hashirama went moon-eyed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he himself had imposed so much discomfort on Izuna. In one way or another, Izuna must have been harboring the same feelings toward him as he had toward Madara.

Settling into the thought, he bowed apologetically. “I understand,” he said. “Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

Tobirama placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder again and looked him deep in the eyes. “It’s just one day,” he reassured him.

The consolation was enough for Hashirama to return to the reception party and eat his cake as it was wrapping up. Fugaku announced over the speakers that there would be an after-party with drinks and music. The guests who stood watching over the ceremonies were invited and their cheers could be heard far and wide.

The music began to play loudly over the speakers and the important seated guests began to trickle their way into the crowd. Seeking comfort in familiarity, Hashirama stood and followed the newlyweds down the promenade. When he was offered some sake, he even began to relax a little. Mingling with the crowd, he’d all but forgotten about-

Madara was approaching him and with some strong intent. The jaunty music shifted. The koto players began a slow and pining waltz in minor key. Hashirama met Madara’s confident sharingan for the first time all day and he was captivated.

“Shall we dance?” Asked the voice of a dead man.

Before he could register what he was agreeing to, Hashirama nodded and was swept away from his family by a firm cold hand that felt dry like handmade washi paper. Then, hand in hand, he could only follow Madara’s lead. The sharingan could not only read movements but could cause them in the right circumstances. In that moment, Hashirama was grateful for that fact. They moved as one, pushing away and coming together three slow and agonizing times. When they were close, Hashirama felt safe and supported in Madara’s strong arms. When they pushed apart, he longed for Madara’s embrace.

Then, Hashirama found himself spinning– one two three times. The dizzying maneuver only made his light inebriation and confusion more evident. Still, he noticed a pattern– movements of three. It was the Uchiha battle tradition. His heart began to race. His hands met Madara’s again only to be rolled outward and get caught at the end of Madara’s reach. He made an involuntary open gesture to match his dance partner and from there he could feel the judgmental gazes of the people in the crowd around him. Madara was making an example of him.

It felt like an eternity before he was rolled back into Madara’s arms. He wanted to just hide there– away from all the guilt and pain, but Madara sent him away again. There, everyone could see the man in the brown patchwork suit for the foolish, self-indulgent, shameful, liar of a man he was. The heat in his already alcohol flushed face increased. The following embrace felt so short in comparison and when he was sent away again, he could hardly stand it. His eyes stung as he tried to fight the rush of his emotions, but then, he was rolled in for the third time; Madara allowed Hashirama's momentum to continue, but he released him from his control. Because of this, Hashirama lost his balance. He reflexively gasped as his center of gravity rapidly approached the ground, but he was promptly snatched by the waist into a deep awkward dip. Briefly, time froze, and he took in all that was that moment with Madara Uchiha. His skin was dull and dry. It cracked on his face and hands. His mane was still impressive and lustrous however– a stark contrast to Hashirama’s tired looking faded brown locks. In his dark suit, crimson colored vest, tie, and with the cherry blossoms falling around them, Hashirama dared to think he was beautiful.

Then he remembered the crowd– his wife, his children. Madara leaned over and pulled him close. “I still have one more move, Hashirama,” he said.

Hashirama felt his heart rate pick up even more. The dip, the lean, and then what? What was Madara intending to do in front of so many people? Would he really go so far as to make that kind of example of him? Was it wrong that he wanted him to?

Madara whispered five words to him. Then, his heart sank. He helped him stand and walked away, leaving him stunned in front of everyone.

What do you think he told him?

@anannua Still kickin'! ~

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