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vespidphoenix · 9 months ago

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Entirely at your service

Tag list: @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @weaversofnulbundin

It's Sanji's turn to stay on the Thousand Sunny while the rest of the Straw Hats explore a new island, so he makes his way up to the crow's nest for his watch. He is pleasantly surprised in more ways than one by what, or rather who, he finds up there.

Notes: NSFW, minors begone, lots of swearing, friends to lovers, porn with feelings, idiots in love, chubby OC, some angst, lots of fluff, praise kink, breast worship, consent really is sexy, inappropriate(?) use of observation haki, etc; word count 6.3k

AN: Baby's first fan fiction! Ya girl can have a little a shameless self-insert, as a treat. I've only seen OPLA and I'm not past the East Blue in the manga/anime yet, but I've done my best to keep everything consistent with canon.

AN 2: I use French as the language of the Celestial Dragons, and both Sanji and Amy are fluent. Most of the time, I'll put the English words in brackets at the end of the paragraph, but there are some recurring phrases that I'll leave untranslated: mère bleue is 'blue mother', as in Mother Ocean; merde is 'shit'; mon amour, chérie, and ma chère are endearments

Chapter One: you are here! | Next chapter | Masterlist

Edit: read this chapter on ao3!

(Banner courtesy of @cafekitsune)

As soon as the hatch leading to the crow’s nest clangs shut, Sanji sets his snack tray on the floor mats and collapses with a dramatic groan.

“Fuck me raw,” he sighs.

“As appealing as that sounds, that’s gonna have to wait another couple days per Chopper’s advice,” a feminine voice deadpans behind him.

Sanji sits upright with a start, nearly knocking over his water bottle. “Mère bleue!” he exclaims as he turns to face his crew mate; “for some reason I thought you were in the landing party today.”

Amy’s reply is drowned out by the pounding of Sanji’s heart when he blinks and notices just how casually she is dressed. He recognizes her sarong as a recent gift from a grateful cloth merchant—he would stand by the assertion that everything looked good on Nami, the original recipient, but he’d have to agree with her that it suited their crew’s interpreter better—and the crocheted halter top as Amy’s own handiwork. He feels a sudden itch to find out for himself just how soft a yarn she chose for this particular work of art…

For lack of a mirror, Amy could not see what her face looked like; but she imagined that if she could, her eyes would be wide and sparkling with mischief. It’s certainly the feeling she always seems to get whenever she’s face-to-face with the handsome blond before her: a grin pressing at her cheeks to escape through the seam of lips pressed together, eyelids spread as if to take in more of him.

(Sometimes, she reckons she could spread other parts of herself for that purpose, if she thought him willing to put his money where his mouth always seems to go.)

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” she continues to say, “but this is the third—no, fourth time in a row!”

Sanji gulps and shakes the slightly-glazed expression from his face. “I’m sorry, can you say that again? I was…distracted by your beauty.” He winks one piercing blue eye, and skepticism be damned, she feels heat creeping over her body and pooling between her legs.

Amy rolls her eyes and fidgets with her sarong in lieu of making a snarky comment about blindfolds.

“As I was saying while you were ogling me, I was going to be one of the landing party, but Nami insisted on having Usopp join her in mapping the island because my handwriting is so much better than his, so I should be the one to help you with inventory. She’s not wrong, per se, but this is the third or fourth time in a row this has happened, and part of me wants to call bullshit.”

“Part of you? What about the rest of you?” Sanji asks, resolutely fixing his gaze on Amy’s eyes instead of letting it drift to her bust or the soft rolls of her exposed torso.

This time it’s Amy’s turn to deliver a blush-inducing wink. “The rest of me is simply happy to be spending time with you.”

“Well, lucky for us, sweetheart, I took the liberty of doing inventory earlier this morning so that Miss Nami would have a grocery list,” Sanji replies after taking a deep breath, “so I am…entirely at your service.”

Entirely at your service. The words tickle Amy as she takes in Sanji’s shirtless form, supine once more and sporting that megawatt grin. As her gaze trickles down from his abs to those steel-hard thighs, she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed by how smug he looks; Mother Ocean knows how handsome he knows he is, how hard he’s worked to earn those well-toned—

“Have I rendered you speechless, mademoiselle?”

Sanji’s voice, sultry and teasing, interrupts her train of thought.

Entirely at your service.

Sanji knows he’s close to some sort of victory when Amy’s face flushes even more deeply and she still doesn’t answer right away. There’s something uniquely thrilling about fencing with words and looks the way Mosshead trains with Wado Ichimonji—maneuvering, testing, anticipating, parrying, scoring—and he reckons it has to do with the way both parties win something if one goes about it correctly.

He watches and sits up as Amy walks around to his front before she settles next to the tray of snacks. His heart thumps harder in his chest the same way that foolish thing does every time they’re in such close proximity, not quite touching but close enough that he wouldn’t even need to fully extend his arm were he to caress her cheek—

“You don’t need to sit up on my account, handsome. Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer later, but right now maybe I’ll serve you some—how does that sound?” Amy plucks a single grape from the cluster and holds it above his mouth.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

It’s not often Sanji allows himself to contemplate what he might do with such an offer. As a child, he’d served in order to live; as an adolescent and now as an adult, he lives to serve. But sometimes it occurs to him that letting someone serve him instead can itself be an act of…well…service.

(It will take some time before he allows himself even to think the word ‘love’ in place of ‘service’, and longer still before he allows himself to speak it; but it’s there, waiting like a daffodil bulb in early March for safe conditions to bloom.)

There will be time for Sanji to unpack all of this later, when a beautiful woman is not offering him a grape that looks as sweet and delicious as the person holding it, looking at him with the inviting heat of an onsen—or perhaps it is the sort of hunger that no amount of grapes can quench but he might be able to satisfy anyway.

All Blue forbid he keep a lady waiting. He lowers himself back onto the floor mats and opens his mouth.

“Good boy,” Amy teases in her best attempt at a sultry purr, frowning when Sanji gives her a strange look and shifts uncomfortably instead of rolling his eyes. “Sorry, does my femme fatale impression need work? Too over-the-top, not campy enough, too demeaning?”

“No, that was—no, no, you’re fine,” he replies, suddenly a little breathless. “How about that grape?”

If Amy notices the hunger filling both his mind and his gym shorts, she mercifully does not comment on it.

There’s a look in Sanji’s eyes that, if she didn’t know better, Amy might call naked desire, and the idea renders her dizzy with want, or it could be dehydration—she’s not sure, not in this weather. She drops the grape in Sanji’s waiting mouth, pats his jaw, and gets up to let a breeze in through a window.

She can hear the slight frown in Sanji’s voice when he calls, “Are you alright, darling? Can I get you something to drink? I think I saw a fountain somewhere…”

“You’re not beating the waiter allegations from Zoro anytime soon, are you?” Amy chuckles, the cooler air having relieved her flustered state.

“He can call me a scullion for all I care; it’s a small price to pay to see you satisfied.” The chef curses under his breath; there are no spare cups up here, so sharing his canteen will have to suffice. He brings it to Amy with an apologetic smile.

She takes a sip and smiles gratefully, and allows her eyes once again to wander over Sanji’s chiseled body. “I have a tall glass of water to drink from, and that’s a good place to start.”

Sanji draws a sudden breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Keep talking like that, and we might not get to finish the snacks I brought up.”

A wicked grin spreads over Amy’s face, and Sanji knows he’s fallen into his own trap.

“How about I help you finish your snack, and you help me finish mine?”

He groans and tilts his head back, and the creeping heat that became smoldering want is stoked into flame by the huskiness of his voice, by the way his neck seems further exposed, there for the kissing—

“Say the word, Amy, and all of it is yours.”

Amy merely smiles. She steps past him, hooking an arm around the far side of his waist as she goes; when he spins around to face her once again, she tugs on the hand suddenly holding hers.

“You gonna have a seat or what?” she asks, nodding toward the tray.

A moment’s hesitation, and Sanji steps forward into the gap between them.

“Are you gonna call me a good boy if I do?” he asks almost under his breath, just above a whisper.

They’re standing so, so close together now, Sanji is sure Amy can feel his breath on her forehead and the place where his shorts are almost too tight to contain him—because she might have called him a tall glass of water, but to him her eyes are Dressrosi kahlua, and he is so drunk on her gaze he would confess to a lot more than his longings, just for another shot.

“I can call you anything you like,” she breathes, “when I am entirely at your service.”

Their lips meet now in a kiss that, for all the repartee and flirtation that preceded it, is gentle and unhurried, a moment to be savored. After a few moments they pull apart, all smiles, long enough for Sanji to remark:

“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”

The pair dissolve into giggles and quick pecks as Sanji finally lays himself down beside the snacks.

To his left, recumbent and supporting herself on one arm, Amy realizes her mistake and gestures to the tray. "Would you mind passing me those?" she asks.

"I thought you were supposed to be serving me," he replied with a mock pout and still-twinkling eyes.

"I was always taught it was impolite to reach directly across someone's personal space." Amy raises an eyebrow, still looking amused.

Gently, tentatively, as if reaching out to pet a cat, Sanji places his left hand on the small of her back. The hitch in Amy's breath at his touch and the way her eyes widen send a tingling sensation down his spine, straight to his groin. He flashes her the most charming smile he can muster.

"Chérie, in case I haven't made it clear, I want you in my personal space; and unless I am reading you wrong, in which case I apologize sincerely..." He begins to remove his hand.

"No, no, keep doing that—"

(Amy almost doesn't recognize that plaintive voice as her own, but the way his broad palm spread across her back and the soothing way he moved his thumb in little circles have seared themselves into her mind like an addiction.)

Sanji, that smug, sexy bastard, grins and does as he is told.

“…if I am not mistaken, you want me in your personal space, too.”

Amy is speechless for a moment with an embarrassment she can’t quite explain, but she knows exactly how to get back at Sanji. With his hand back in its place holding her, she smiles sweetly and says:

“Thank you…”

—she moves not only to reach across him for the food, but also to straddle him entirely, which she is sure was his plan to begin with; but then she leans her head close to his, and her smile turns impish—

“…or should I say ‘good boy’?”

Pulling her waist closer with one hand and pushing himself up from the floor with the other arm, Sanji kisses Amy again, trailing along her jawline with an unmistakable urgency.

“Mon amour,” he pleads, “laisse-moi te montrer ce que tu m’inspires…” [Let me show you what you inspire in me...]

“Ho-hold on, lover boy,” Amy gasps, giving the smallest yelp when his hand squeezes a plush asscheek and presses her body against his hardness. “Don’t forget what you came here to do. We don’t—fuck—we don’t waste food.” She pushes against Sanji’s chest and hopes he can see the sympathetic reluctance in her face.

He whimpers. Sanji whimpers, and the sound of it is almost enough to break her resolve; but she knows that if he loved anything in the world more than women, it would be food alone. She presses her forehead to his and a gentle kiss to his nose.

“We don’t waste food.”

If Sanji didn’t know better, he’d think he was dreaming. If he’s dreaming, then woe betide the person who wakes him up, he thinks.

The afternoon sun backlights Amy’s head like a halo, and the breeze through the window causes her brown hair to flutter like a curtain or a sacred veil. Sanji thanks whatever deities are listening—for surely the vision above him is divine in source as well as appearance—for every person before him who fumbled their chance at the privilege that is now his. Hell if he knows what a rejected-princeling-turned-pirate-cook could possibly offer that is worthy of a goddess like this; but he would devote himself to her, be her high priest, beg her to take him as her throne—anything for the heaven in her embrace, if she would only let him.

We don’t waste food.

The reminder nudges Sanji out of his angst, and he grins. “Let’s have those snacks, then, before we get carried away and fill up on something else.”

He gives Amy one more kiss on her lips, chaste yet searing, and lets her go.

The absence of his hand on her waist feels like a loss, until she sits back to reach for the grapes and feels something pressing below her tailbone. She exchanges a knowing smile with the man pinned beneath her, handsome as a demigod.

“You know, if we share those snacks, they’ll be gone faster,” he muses, before dropping his voice even lower. “Then you and I can have our ways with each other.”

“Someone’s eager.” Amy winks and picks up a piece of bruschetta.

“Eager to please you, eager to serve you, eager to feel you in the throes of bliss—yes, I am eager, and you deserve an eager lover, Amy.”

Amy looks stunned. Sanji gestures to the bread slice in her hand.

“Mind telling me how that bruschetta tastes?” he asks. “I used a different combination of cheese and seasoning since we couldn’t find any mozzarella in the last port.”

You deserve an eager lover.

Amy knows this to be true, knows that a lack of sex is better than mediocre sex; but knowing is one thing, and hearing a would-be lover echo the sentiment is another. Not only that: Sanji says it with such conviction, as if pleading with her to believe it too. It's refreshing. Arousing.

So...maybe she leans forward a bit more than necessary when she brings a morsel to Sanji's waiting mouth, and delights in the way his noises of appreciation seem to be as much for the heft of her breasts as for the acidic tang of the diced tomatoes. Maybe she grinds her bottom on his clothed cock just a little when she reaches for another handful of grapes, and smiles with the knowledge that his moaning isn't only for the bursts of sweetness on his tongue. Maybe she is uncommonly thorough when licking the sticky tangerine juice off his fingers.

Entirely at your service.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

Swimming as their heads are with heady lust, it takes Sanji and Amy by surprise when they find the snack tray empty. They stare at it in silence for a long moment, before—

“Should I, uh—”

“That went more—”

“No, sorry, you go—”

“You go—”

Sanji sits up, laughing, and Amy kneels in front of him, head cocked to one side.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any condoms on you, or know whether Zoro keeps any up here?” Amy asks quietly.

“Hm? I think Mosshead keeps all his in his belt thing; Franky’s shooting blanks and exclusive with Miss Robin, so they don’t need any—”

“Wait, how does Franky know…”

“Apparently the Surgeon of Death also does vasectomies from time to time—wish I’d thought of that the last time we ran into them.”

“Damn. But do you have any?” Amy asks, leaning closer and poking him gently.

Sanji sighs deeply. “Don’t got any rubbers on me, but I keep some in the bunk room…”

“Hmmm, mais je ne peux plus attendre.” With her left hand on his right cheek, Amy pulls Sanji in for a lingering kiss. “J’ai besoin de toi maintenant.” [but I can't wait anymore; I need you now]

“Fuck, Amy,” Sanji groans between hungry, open-mouthed kisses, “how’m I supposed to resist you when you talk to me all sweet like that?” He slides a hand just above the waist of her sarong for emphasis, and cautiously slips a couple fingertips between fabric and skin.

Amy allows her fingernails to lightly scrape his skin as her free hand finds his spine; the hand already on his face threads through his hair. “You’re not supposed to resist me,” she murmurs into his jawline as she pulls his head back to expose his neck. “You’re supposed to forget about that snack tray, forget about our crewmates”—she places a cluster of kisses along his neck—“and enjoy some time alone with your lover—”

Your lover. The words send shivers coursing over Sanji’s skin.

“—just…enjoy yourself for a while.” She looks up at him through half-lidded eyes and allows one hand to drift down to his waistband.

“Well, when you put it like that—merde, ça me sens bien—let me at least put a towel down for us?” Sanji reluctantly extracts himself from Amy, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand when he catches a pout on her lovely face. [that feels good]

“Make it quick, mon amour…vraiment, j’ai besoin de toi…” [truly, I need you]

Sanji pulls a couple towels from a nearby rack, drapes the larger one so that it flows from the bottom step onto the floor, and sets the smaller one beside it. Approaching Amy, he holds a hand out to her with the air of a gentleman at a ball asking a lady to dance. She takes it and pulls herself up to stand in front of him.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she asks with an adoring smile.

Sanji cups her face in both of his hands and looks her in the eyes. “We can stop at any time and it won’t cause problems between us, y’know that, right? I want this to be enjoyable for both of us.”

Amy lets her eyes flick down to Sanji’s parted lips before meeting his gaze. “What would really be enjoyable right now is you kissing me…”

“So needy,” he teases, but obliges Amy anyway.

“‘Needy’? The love cook calls me ‘needy’?” she replies with mock outrage. “You’re the one who tricked me into straddling you and got so horny over a simple pet name that you reverted to Celestial!”

Sanji gives her a mischievous smile and another peck. “You stepped into the trap very willingly, though, didn’t you?” Another kiss, lingering a moment, and he adds: “And I know for a fact you loved it when I switched languages.”

“Quoi d’autre peux-tu faire avec ta langue, hmm?” Amy whispers against Sanji’s lips. [What else can you do with your tongue]

“S’il te plaît, chérie,” he whispers in kind, his fingers dancing lightly along one arm as he lifts it to his shoulder, “je peux te démontrer…” [If it please you, I can demonstrate]

Suddenly he bends down, and with a grunt he lifts Amy by her thighs, one on either side of his waist. He sets her down on the towel.

No sooner does Sanji let go of her legs than Amy is on him, gripping his face with both hands and kissing him voraciously.

“That’s so—ungh—so fucking hot, Sanji,” she moans. “Fuck, you’re strong.”

“You’re not that heavy, are you?” Sanji manages to say between kisses—not that he’s complaining. “Ten stone, twelve?”

“Fourteen last I checked,” Amy murmurs into his chin. “You’re so good at what you do, I’m always hungry for more.”

Sanji chuckles at her double entendre. “Fourteen’s nothin’, long as I let my legs do the work.”

“Definitely the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen.” Amy sucks lightly at the base of Sanji’s neck, and almost erases his train of thought completely.

“Merde—since your own, of course, right?” He places his hands on her knees and ever-so-slowly moves them upward.

“Mmm, naturally,” Amy murmurs, more interested in Sanji’s collarbone.

“Are you even listening right now?” Sanji asks, grinning with amusement as he pulls away. He laughs when Amy makes a whining noise and chases him with her lips.

“Your tongue is doing way too much talking, lover boy. Starting to think maybe you’re all talk.”

Sanji narrows his eyes.

Before Amy has time even to discern anything from his smile, Sanji’s gripping the back of her head in one hand and nudging her mouth open with his tongue. His other hand slides higher along her thighs, tantalizingly close to where she suddenly realizes she needs his touch the most. She moans into Sanji’s hungry mouth, the noise sounding more like a whimper than she would have liked to admit were she clear-minded; but her senses are consumed with him, and she can’t bring herself to care. His appreciative groans are like held notes on a saxophone; he smells of musky cologne and sweat in a way that registers as the essence of virility in the back of her mind; he electrifies her skin with the slightest contact; she can taste fruit and spice on his tongue, and—

“Sanj, there’s something metal in your mouth, is that a piercing or…?”

Amy leans back to peer into Sanji’s grinning mouth, and sure enough, the frenulum is pierced with a horseshoe bar.

She puts her arms around his neck and pulls him close again. “You know, I’d heard you described as having a silver tongue,” she teases, her lips a hair’s breadth from his, “but I didn’t think Nami and Usopp were being serious.”

Sanji kisses her again, delicate and sweet like a meringue. “It’s surgical steel, love, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He chuckles and Amy rolls her eyes fondly.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your talent show?” she suggests.

“A show, hmm? I’ve never tried exhibitionism, but we can talk kinks later, sure.”

“You know what I meant!” Amy laughs, giving Sanji’s shoulder a playful backhand.

“Oh, yes, that’s right: the talent show in which I”—Sanji places one more kiss on Amy’s smiling mouth—“pleasure this lovely lady”—he whispers before kissing behind her ear and sliding his hands to the laces of her top—“with my tongue until she”—loosens the knot holding the halter-neck in place and nips an exposed shoulder, prompting her to buck against him—“begs me to make her cum on my face.” He presses his face into her cleavage, and looks up to gauge her expression. “That one?”

Amy combs a hand through Sanji’s corn-silk hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and gasps with something like awe marbled with need. His lust-darkened eyes peering up at her from between her breasts might be the most erotic thing she’s ever seen.

Entirely at your service.

You deserve an eager lover.

“Oh, Sanji…” she sighs and leans back against the bench. “Please, yes, I need it…

“…do I get to serve you after?”

The question is so airy and quiet that Sanji almost doesn’t catch it, occupied as he is with the scent of Amy’s perfume and the solemn task of unbuttoning her from the other side. “What’s that, darling?”

Amy holds his face between her hands and pets his flushed cheeks with her thumbs. “Do I get to return the favor once you’ve made good on those wonderful things you said you want to do to me?”

“You may not need to. I’m pretty, ah, worked up right now—might be that I’ll follow you over the edge when you cum for me.” Sanji kisses her palm and, taking hold of her hand, guides it along the faint trail of hair leading to where he needs her touch the most.

Amy wants to press the question further, but contents herself with pressing her hand to the bulge in Sanji’s shorts. She gasps in wonder at his size and the needy cry that pours from his lips.

“Let’s find out for sure, shall we?” She turns her back to Sanji and lifts her hair out of the way.

Seating himself on the bench beside Amy, Sanji can reach the buttons just fine, but he welcomes the chance to lavish her neck with a flurry of kisses. He smiles against her skin at her giggling, and thinks of how quickly the sound is becoming one of his favorites.

Amy’s breath, already shaking, hitches when she feels her top come loose, and again when Sanji sucks lightly on the skin joining her neck to her shoulders.

“Sanji, please…”

“Shhh, darling, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs as his hands snake over the bare skin of her waist to cover hers in the front. “Your body is so soft, so beautiful. I love it.

“Can…can I just…feel it for a moment first? Explore it, admire it for a bit before I ravish you?” Sanji continues, tracing with his fingers the places that had previously been covered.

“Just as long as your body stays on mine.” Amy sighs dreamily and leans against him, eyes closed, happy to let him fill her senses once again.

There has, historically, been precious little in Sanji’s life that could be described as soft or tender. Such is a hard-working life at sea, to say nothing of what came before his stint on the Orbit; even on such a well-appointed ship as the Thousand Sunny, piracy is piracy, and the oceans swallow the weak. So when something comes Sanji’s way that could be construed as even the vaguest promise of devotion, he has learned to seize it, to enjoy it while he can, before the Blue Mother’s waves inevitably carry it out of reach.

He does not seize Amy, for she is not a pipe dream or a fantasy: she is substantial, in multiple senses of the word, generous in the warm plushness of her body and likewise in the beauty of her soul. He paces himself, like a man who has known starvation followed by plenty; though he does have to take a steadying breath when she sets aside the bralette and turns toward him, now bare-chested. One hand goes to her heartbeat, one to her shoulder, trailing downward and leaving a tingling heat in its wake.

“I want to figure you out, chérie, before I take you apart,” Sanji rasps in Amy’s ear as he engages his haki.

Amy has a hunch she’s in for some of the best sex of her life. Not that she has a great deal of first-hand experience for the love cook to exceed—men did not often stay in her life long enough for attraction to develop—but even if Sanji is as much of a serial womanizer as Nami and Zoro make him out to be, he has already proven attentive and empathetic enough to be above average. It’s not his skill she’s worried about—

The casual flick of a thumb across a now-stiffened nipple jolts Amy back into the moment with a squeal.

“Fuck, Sanji, that feels so good, do it again…”

He obliges, of course he does, and pleasure like an electric shock goes straight to her cunt, suddenly flooded with slick. She arches her back, leaning forward into his touch; and he must have heard the needy impatience in her wordless moan, because he pulls her flush with him and nibbles her ear.

“Où d’autre, where else do you need me?” Sanji murmurs. “J’ai besoin de te plaîre…” [Where else; I need to please you]

Where doesn’t she need him? Amy wonders. “Everywhere, babe, jus’—fuck—everywhere. My neck, my hands, my tits, need you inside, everywhere.”

Sanji’s face lights up like he’s received the best news of his life, and he kisses her again.

“As my lady commands.”

As he nibbles at her ear and her neck, Amy can’t resist rolling her hips against him, flush as she is with his hardened abdomen and his cock, and spirits it feels so good—

“Amy, my love,” Sanji pleads, “I don’t want to cum yet, let me do this for you—”

“But Sanji…”

“Amy. Don’t you want me to keep my promise to you?”

He stands and pulls her up as well, and continues: “Don’t you want to find out what my tongue can do? I should think you wouldn’t want the talent show to end so early.”

“Your fingers untying my skirt are giving me a mixed signal,” Amy mutters, though her fingers digging out the knots belie the annoyance in her words.

“I’m going to have you lay back for me, darling,” Sanji says as he folds the sarong, “and I want to have a cushion for your beautiful head.” He holds the garment out to her, and he’s looking at her with such tenderness that she feels something clench in her chest. “Your comfort matters to me.”

“And you feeling good matters to me.”

“Tell you what,” Sanji offers as his hands push gently on Amy’s hips, encouraging her to sit. “I get to taste every part of you, and you get to shower me in praise and ‘good boys’ to your heart’s content. How does that sound?”

“And then I get to play with your cock?” she asks, pouting slightly but positioning herself on the towel nevertheless.

Sanji makes a choked gasp. “Merde, yes, then you can play with my cock.”

“Sounds good to me.” Amy leans back and watches as he hems her in, elbows on either side of her shoulders, powerful legs astride her own.

Sanji takes a deep breath and considers what he learns from his haki. Amy shudders almost imperceptibly with each heaving breath; her eyes, wide and dark, dart between his eyes, his lips, his chest, and occasionally his groin. Her back is arched just enough to not have the steps’ wooden lip pressing into her, or perhaps she means to draw his attention back to her sizeable breasts; and her knees are turned outward, as though readying her legs to cage his lower torso close to her own. She smells of jasmine, sweat, and the spiced tang of arousal, so much arousal.

He can’t wait to taste her. With no dissonance of thought or feeling in her aura to give him pause, the tasting begins.

He starts, quite naturally, with her mouth: lips that capture his sight whenever she has occasion to wear lipstick, staining his fantasies a pomegranate red; gasps and moans that spill from her like an overturned glass of sparkling wine; the lingering taste of sweet words and peppery olive oil on a tongue seeking out its counterpart to pull him closer. When the cruel need for oxygen forces them to pull apart, Sanji and his own clever tongue find the sensitive spot just behind Amy’s ear that he knows will make her nerves sing—

“SANJI, oh gods!” she cries, sure enough—

“Amy, chérie, would you be very offended if I were to leave a souvenir on your skin?” Sanji asks in a husky voice while he has her ear. “A mark of my passion, so to speak?”

Amy does not answer right away and her frenzied groping stills, but her embrace remains steady, which soothes his unease. She’s considering it, Sanji reminds himself.

Finally, she caresses his cheek, and he takes the chance to kiss her inner wrist. “Put them in places that can be covered with ease,” she replies decisively. “Whatever…this is”—for the first time since he found her in the crow’s nest Sanji hears a note of apprehension in her voice—“it’s our treasure, and I’d like to enjoy it that way for a bit before making it known to anyone else.

“We may be Straw Hats, but we are still pirates,” Amy continues with a smile returning to her face. “I think we’re allowed to be a little cagey about our hidden treasure.”

Whatever this is. Our hidden treasure. Sanji feels something shift in him at Amy’s words—not a jarring shift like a fall or a sudden change of perspective, but a shift like the changing of plans or steering a vessel in a new direction. A shift like soil making way for growing roots.

In the meantime, Sanji’s cock is twitching at the prospect of marking this woman as his, and again with the thrill of keeping a secret. “Such an angel,” he groans into her neck, “such a privilege just to touch you.”

Such a dangerous business, this whole falling-in-love thing, Amy thinks to herself. No, she’s not in love, not with one of the most notorious flirts on the Grand Line, even if he does look like he belongs on a magazine cover instead of a pirate vessel. Even if she isn’t merely imagining the heartbroken look on his face at the words ‘whatever this is’. Even if he is the most caring lover she’s ever had—because that’s just the thing: he does love generously, he loves in defiance of the sire he left behind, he loves and he loves and it would be selfish of her to want some part of it to be hers alone, wouldn’t it? No, she’s not in love with Sanji, but the cliff’s edge is right there, and the call of the void is strong.

“Chérie, have I lost you again? Is everything alright?”

Sanji’s handsome, smiling face is hovering above her chest again. Amy runs her fingers through his hair—he closes his eyes and hums at the sensation—and tucks it behind his ear.

“I was just…distracted by your beauty.” She smiles and winks.

“Using my own lines on me, are you?” Sanji growls in mock annoyance.

“What?! I’m just learning from the best.”

“Flatterer.”

“Clearly flattery works, or else you wouldn’t be straddling a mostly-naked woman right now.” Amy begins to drag one foot along Sanji’s leg for emphasis.

In lieu of an answer, he shudders and trails a finger along the side of one breast, which he lifts toward his mouth. While Amy lets her head fall back against the improvised cushion, he mouths at one pebbled areola with relish and strokes the other with a firm thumb, basking in her babbled praises over the next several minutes.

“That feels so, so good, darling, so good…

“Gods, your tongue is incredible—yes, just like that!”

“Oh, fuck—could let you do just this to me for hours…”

…and Sanji thinks, feeling the way she bucks and tenses under his caresses, he’d be willing to do it, too, his own erection be damned, if he didn’t think muscle cramps on his part would put a damper on her pleasure. If nothing else happens between him and Amy, he could at least go for months touching himself just to this memory.

Mercifully, the sound of a soft chuckle interrupts Sanji’s anxious thoughts before they have a chance to spiral. He leaves off the sucking motion of his tongue and looks into Amy’s half-lidded eyes. “Chérie?” he inquires tentatively.

She again combs his hair back with her fingers, still smiling. “It just struck me as funny, the way you looked like a boy licking his first ice cream cone of the summer.”

Sanji stares a moment before spluttering with indignation. “And what is a man supposed to look like as he is worshiping at his lady’s breasts?”

Unfortunately, this serves only to make the lady in question laugh harder, albeit with fondness, and touch her forehead to his.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! It felt so good, but when I opened my eyes, there you were, swirling your tongue like you were afraid of letting your mint chocolate chip melt—”

“Melt?!” Sanji echoes, still playfully indignant. “Oh, I’ll make you melt—”

—to which end he pushes Amy back down and renews his ministrations with a vengeance, licking and sucking and nipping the sensitive buds, and tickling her sides. His hands slide lower and lower along her hips until he’s teasing the skin just above her panties; and when she makes no move to bat his hand away, he dips two fingers into the heat of her folds.

Amy never knew sex could be so fun.

Well, no, that’s not quite true; she’s long known, in an intellectual sort of way, that feeling safe and relaxed emotionally is conducive to both having fun and to having good sex. But the wisdom gleaned from others feels like an understatement compared to the euphoria and the anticipation suffusing her right now.

“You—” she pants, smiling, “you’re as good as your word, ah-aren’t you?”

Sanji releases a reddened nipple with a lewd smack. “And you, love, have been melting for a while already, haven’t you?” He runs a finger along her slit, grinning wickedly at her wetness.

“Oh fuck, Sanji, keep—keep doing that…”

“Tell me, Amy, is all of this for me?” Sanji all but purrs. Her pussy clenches at the sight of him licking her slick off of his hand and she whimpers.

A whimper is not enough for him: his fingers tease her clit, dancing around but never touching it. He flicks a nipple with his tongue. “I need words, ma chère…” he says.

Amy does not have words, though. There is nothing in Amy’s world save her body, and Sanji’s touch, and pure sensation.

“Answer me,” Sanji insists in a rumbled voice; and when he hears no answer but more wordless whimpering, he bites on Amy’s nipple and strokes her clit at the same time.

“Fuck! SANJI!” she screams, mustering the last two words in her brain as her world turns from pure sensation to white-hot ecstasy.

Likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated, especially if somehow I fucked up post formatting or my French grammar LOL

#one piece #one piece live action #black leg sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece oc #sanji smut #sanji x oc #oc x canon #one piece smut #my fictional husband #my ocs #my fanfiction #oc: Amy Lajoie

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vsyrworld · 1 year ago

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i rrly need a quick fluffy post monza charlos fanfic so here is my shot (turn out its not quick but anyway)

rated : m (bcs of they kiss a lot)

tags : sleepy cuddle and kisses, singapore as core memory, not beta read so sorry bout error.

♡ enjoy ♡

///

carlos is so so done. so freaking wasted as he could only sprawled on his bed, lying there like a death log. feet cramp, shoulder aching, body hurts everywhere. and finally after a dreadful weekend, enormous laps of attacking and defending rewarded by a worthy podium, is an ecstasy but not for long as he has to spare his social energy for boring long ass press interview and celebration. at least the last one is another reward.

he thought.

if isnt because of that stupid thieves out of nowhere, he already eating his dinner out, have a drink that charles had promised him through interview and the bad thing was charles also already texted him, "matee! lets have a drink together tonight!!", he read and left the chatroom opened, and then his watch accident, ran his breath out then the police -- oh merde, charles must be waiting him at bar or atleast his response and yet- carlos told rupert to skip a dinner and call it a day.

the other bad news is, if he is too tired. he couldnt sleep. and tifosi are still out there whatever the chantng or lullaby they are doing-- its actually nice and heartwarming-- but he needs sleeps. constantly nagging by the anonymous hands, scents, crowds making him dizzy. he lost sense of familiarness. then he remember this week, they didnt film anything about c2 challenges. carlos hadnt had a chance to annoy charles because they are cramped in a big crowd, people here people there --

his phone ringing stopping carlos from circulating haze thought

lazily, or more pricisely, fatiguely, reach his bed side stand and swipe the call without minding the caller id,

"carlos?! you okay? where are you now?" carlos stunned in silence but his lips form a smile, cahlos

"hey" he turned his body to lay down on his left side. the phone is on top of his right ear, as he dropped his own hand to matress, "sorry" he speaks slowly, his energy already depleted

"forget it, the important is you are ok." charles' voice smoothing right to his ear.

"hm" he hummed in agreement. already closing his eyes.

he heard a chuckled from other line, "do you want me ...um..."

carlos smiled as his hand mindlesly caressing the empty spot beside him,

"dont wanna get up. too tired" he said truthfully. the bed is already swallowed him half of his body and soul,

"okay" charles said. carlos didnt expect anything so he doesn't hang up the phone.

but he knows charles will come anyway,

thus when his hotel room door closed with a soft thuds, and his arms streched into a cold empty spot is finally, finally, now replaced by a slender warm figure.

carlos with eyes closed, instinctively wraps the body and pulling him so his chest against charles' chest, legs tangled each other, a warm laugh land on his sleepy face

"is this how you greet me, hm? mister ministary of defence? pole sitter? podium winner? or hm a superhero who chasing down the thieves around the street hmph--"

carlos shuts him with long deep kiss, with the very last energy he had. his hands welcoming him by smoothers down the softness of hoodie charles' wears. it is so warm and cloudy. charles fresh scents is a lily, musky vanilla. sweet and calming makes him dropped his lips into charles juncture neck.

"wrong," he replies and left a warm kiss on charles exposed skin. "it's your lover." finally. a familarness.

charles breathed out as his finger massaging carlos hair softly. "hi to you too, mi amor"

they take their own time respectively, trying to gain and mapping each other body again after a full weekend constantly dealing with stranger sweats, sticky skin.

"miss me?" charles said into carlos thick hair. he loves when charles does that.

he opens his mouth to answer but then his wicked mind does something else,

charles let a sudden moan as carlos nipped and sucking charles neck slowly, open mouthed, "ca- ah, carlos, wait" the way charles gripped carlos hair's is so addicting. its soft but firm, delicate but sensual. carlos cant get enough from it.

carlos grunts and continue licking the spot, "you said you tired, ah-" charles didnt even finished his sentence because their hards-on rubbing against each other and carlos circling his arm on charles wait, trying to get the friction

but carlos is tired, so the movement is painfuly slow thus creating a consistent gap of moan from charles. "you menance" charles said between moan as he chin up carlos so they are facing each other.

"open your eyes you idiota" carlos slowly blinking his eyes to find charles hazy gaze straight at him with such a fondness.

carlos breath into his face and decide to gives him a eskimo kisses. the one that he and charles likes to do. its ticklish but sweeter than lips kisses.

from carlos hooded eyes, he bring his palm to caressing charles' cheek, "tired. sorry" and eyes flutters to shutting again

charles laughs like a lulabby to him, "okay okay. so don't rub on me. let save it for the morning" he exchanged the kiss by rubbing his nose to carlos cheek and back again to carlos' nose, then he stayed there.

"charles" he said after a moment with, of course, the tifosi singing at outside

"hm?"

"tell your fans to shut up please"

charles giggled then smacked carlos biceps that hugs them close, "hey that's rude to say like that!" carlos didnt mean it but he really really need a quite and good sleep. really, he let out a dissapoint grunt

charles shifted his head to see beyond carlos shoulder, at the closed curtain window, luckily they couldnt be seen from outside. "they are not my fans, carlos"

another nose rubbing, "its ours"

carlos smiled at charles statement as his mind start day dreaming about monza podium celebrations. he is enchanted by the prancing horse.

"si, but i really need a quite moment." carlos hummed,

charles doesn't answered him, only shifted his head closer to him then flushing their forehead together. breath rising constantly with each other, trying the best to focusing their breathing rhythm and so the tifosi chant become a soft background sounds.

"charles" carlos said again between the time their chest expand.

"i'm here" a slow long exhale drawns out from both of them.

as both of them inhaling the oxygen, carlos closed the gap by placing himself to charles' lips with a soft kiss. charles , slow but reassuringly, sealed them with pulling carlos closer and they start to exchanged some languid kisses. it was a simple peck then turns into a french kiss somehow, back again to calmer one and ending it with their most favorite kisses all the time, the one long deep kiss.

to have charles lips against him, and their nose flushed into each other cheek. carlos kissing him raw and breathlessly until the air in his lungs sucked all out, charles not wanting to apart from carlos' lips, cluthed his hand to carlos' tshirt, and other one is settle down at spaniard cheek to trails carlos face up and down. thus, carlos answered it by tighting his waist grips.

they pulled out together in a loud exhale, "god i love when you do that" charles giggled and bring their nose kissed each other affectionately.

carlos grins widely with his eyes still closed. he rubs charles' in agreement.

"carlos i have an idea"

"what is that?"

"lets go to singapore a couple day quicker than others"

charles statement successfuly makes carlos' eyes open. he analyze charles expression but none other than a soft private smile he gives him and there is a longing, like a want feeling, a desire and a permission for spending a time together outside racing schedule

"you want to flight early?" he reassure charles again, afraid it's might his delulu scenario since his brain is not working properly.

"us. i want us to ..." charles dimples appear as he bites his lips nervously,

"to what?" carlos raised his eyebrows

"you know, do what couple do?" he said shyly

carlos swear he melted against the bed sheet ever more, "date then?" he gives charles a kiss on his dimples.

which create a soft giggle, "you can say that"

"yeah" carlos brings his hand into charles' nape and goes into his cheek where the dimple is rested. he really really want to feel him all.

singapore, a perfect runaway country. is not monza, is not charles' monaco and it is also not carlos' malorca. it's their singapore.

"yes, i like that" carlos said again this time between the kiss.

"yeah?" charles is caressing his eye bag. smoothing them like a butter, making carlos purrs

"yes and then we can make love there too" he grins teasingly and a hand smack on his chest making him laughed.

"you are really what max said, naughty" charles rolled his eyes, "but yes i guess we can"

"in the pool?" he pushed again, eyes glint with a mischieve, "pool sex?"

"oh my god cahlos, stop!" charles put his own hands to covered his well redden face.

he chuckled seeing charles flushtrated so he dropped a kiss on charles' hand, whispering a "carino" against the slender fingers.

"if is not singapore..." carlos trailed his voice down as charles opened his hand and settled it down into carlos' cheek. A circular hand motion drifting him to sleep,

"if is not because of singapore, i wouldn't be here with you" he said before closing his eyes

he doesn't have to see charles expression, he already know it by all of his heart

so he doesn't protest when charles tucked him down, resting his chin ontop of carlos head, wraping his arm protectively as carlos felt a drop of forehead kiss

"let's sleep and get out from here"

with that, carlos finally get his best sleep in that day.

#f1 #c2 #1655 #charlos #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #i wrote this at 11.00 pm like the fuck #im sucker for singapore lore #my fics

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mothervonmayhem · 10 months ago

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Neon Requiem - Band Rivals Hobie x Guitarist! Reader

Based on @rexlroze and @the-kr8tor 's original ideas that just started to eat my brain.

NOTE: I don't write Hobie/Miguel--in fact--I don't write fanfiction at all. As the fandom's resident Chaos Goblin Queen!Spider-Mom writing characters half my age is a bit of a stretch for me. This has not been proofread/edited for foreign language used. All repetitive info, boring shit, and grammatical mistakes are 100% my own and brought to you by the letters ASD and the numbers 5 (as in year-old-child with aforementioned ASD) and 3 (as in hours of sleep that I get each night).

Also, written like a screenplay, so I could turn this into a proper comic coming up. Also also, get you a person who looks at you like Hobie looks at R.

ACT 1 SCENE 1 - FLASHBACK - EXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT In a gritty, neon-lit alleyway, Young teen R is busy wheat-pasting posters for her band's upcoming gig. The posters feature a cybernetic skull (looking suspiciously like Spider-Man 2099 mask) with glowing eyes, the band's name "2099" emblazoned beneath it. As she works, Hobie appears from the shadows, a spray can in hand. He's tagging a nearby wall with a stylized anarchy symbol.

HOBIE (noticing R) Oi, what've we got 'ere? Another lost soul in the concrete jungle?

R (startled, then regaining composure) Hardly lost, mon ami. Just spreading the word about the revolution. Hobie steps closer, examining her posters.

HOBIE "2099," eh? Sounds like a proper cyberpunk outfit. You lot singing about the end of the world or sommat?

R (grinning) More like the rebirth of a new one, through science and technology. It is the brain-child of mon ami, his idea for a band... but he sings like...a cat in heat yowling from inside a Cookie Monster costume. Fun concept though. I'm going to take lead vocals.

HOBIE (intrigued) That sounds painful... but color me impressed, love... You can sing? Right? Not every day you meet a bird with brains, talent, and beauty. R rolls her eyes, but there is a hint of a blush on her cheeks, but before she can respond, the sound of police sirens fills the air.

HOBIE (grabbing R's hand) Bollocks, your dystopian future has arrived! They run through the winding alleyways, adrenaline pumping, until they finally come to a stop in a secluded courtyard.

READER (catching her breath) Merde, that was close!

HOBIE (grinning) Stick with me, love, and you'll never be bored. As they lean against the wall, laughing and trying to catch their breath, a spark of connection flickers between them.

READER (realizing) Wait, I never got your name.

HOBIE (extending his hand) Most just call me Dirty Punk, or Punk for short. He jokes, self-deprecating, he doesn’t want to tell her his name yet, it feels really personal now, like it's just Hobart, it's not that cool. It’s definitely not cool enough to tell her.

READER Punk, eh? Really? Fine, then call me R. Yeah, Punk, I can sing...

SCENE 2 - PRESENT DAY - EXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT

In a gritty, neon-lit alleyway, READER, a French metal chick with ever-changing hair color, is struggling to wheat-paste a large poster featuring her band "NEON REQUIEM" on a high, hard-to-reach wall.

Suddenly, SPIDER PUNK (aka HOBIE BROWN), a British punk rocker and vigilante, appears hanging upside down on a web behind her.

SPIDER PUNK Need a hand, love?

Reader spins around, eyes wide with fear and surprise.

READER (stammering) Spider-Man! Je suis désolée, It… yeah.. it's exactly what it looks like.

SPIDER PUNK (waving his hand dismissively) Nah, don't sweat it, mate. I'm all for stickin' it to the man. 'Sides, that's a wicked poster you got there.

Reader relaxes, a smile spreading across her face.

READER (relieved) Merci! I thought I was busted for sure.

SPIDER PUNK (flips down from the web and lands on his feet, like a cat) Not on my watch, love. 'Ere, let me give you a boost.

Spider Punk gently wraps an arm around Reader's waist and shoots a web to the top of the wall. They ascend together, Reader grinning as they reach the perfect spot to place the poster.

As they work together to smooth out the poster, Spider Punk notices the band details: Reader, Miguel, and Gabriel. Guitar, Bass, and Drums. Miguel is handsome, long-haired, massive band-mate. Miguel back up vocals and bass he is the epitome of a metal-head.

SPIDER PUNK (chuckling at Miguel's serious metal-head expression) This bloke looks like he could use a laugh.

With a mischievous grin beneath his mask, Spider Punk uses his web shooter to draw a silly mustache on Miguel's serious face.

READER (giggling) Oh, il va être furieux! But it's too funny! My poor brother.

SPIDER PUNK (admiring their handiwork) There, now that's a proper work of art.

As they descend back to the ground, Reader turns to Spider Punk, her eyes sparkling with amusement and gratitude.

READER (sincerely) Merci beaucoup, Spider-Man. You really saved my ass tonight. You should come cheer us on at Battle of the Bands.

SPIDER PUNK (bowing dramatically) All in a night's work for your friendly neighborhood Spider Punk, love. I might be there, afterall, the Spider Punks are playing-band like that is my namesake, innit?

With a wink beneath his mask, Spider Punk shoots a web and swings off into the night, leaving Reader grinning and shaking her head in amazement.

SCENE 3 - INT. BAR - NIGHT

Later after dropping by her hostel room to change and wash up from paste, READER, aka, R is at a bar when she spots the only open spot at the bar. It's next to a 20-something nursing a pint. SPIDER PUNK, aka HOBIE BROWN aka PUNK, a British punk guitarist in his mid-20s, sits at the bar, nursing a pint. His lean, wiry frame is clad in a torn Sex Pistols shirt and tight jeans, held up by a studded belt slung low on his hips. Fishnet gloves adorn his hands, their black polished nails chipped from endless hours of guitar playing. Piercings glint in the dim light, catching the eye and hinting at his rebellious nature. He's in his civvy digs, a signature blend of 1980s anarcho-punk style that makes him look like the second-coming of Jean-Michel Basquiat, all raw talent and unfiltered edge. Lost in thought, an achingly familiar voice, something from a buried memory, suddenly catches his attention. It can't be...

READER, [loosely based on Gwen Stacy's Black Cat] a French metal chick with ever-changing hair color, also in their mid-20s and equally skilled with a guitar, orders a drink next to him. Her effortlessly cool vibe is a result of her world travels. She is now in her full stage persona costume with all the eyeliner and leather that comes along with it.The two don't recognize each other at first.

READER (to the bartender, in a French accent) Un Jack Daniel's, s'il vous plaît.

Hobie glances at Reader, a flicker of recognition in his eyes... doesn't he know her? Battle of the Bands? Must be it, mate.

HOBIE (in a thick British accent) Blimey, that's a proper choice, innit? You 'ere for the battle of the bands, love?

READER (surprised) Oui, how did you know?

HOBIE (smirking) Just a... sense...Call it a punk's intuition, darling. I'm in the mix too, y'know.

MIGUEL O'HARA, Reader's handsome, *built* Hispanic bandmate, approaches. At 6'7" and 310lbs of pure muscle, he cuts an imposing figure. His younger brother GABRIEL, a softer, sweeter version of Miguel, follows close behind.

MIGUEL (Finds Reader and is by her side instantly, voice dripping with sarcasm and derision) R, you snuck out on practice...just to drink in this hellhole? Is that Jack? No puedo mas... Carnalita...This shit is bad for you.

READER (smiles to her bandmate, she has just arrived but she is hiding her wheat-pasting activities from the stern older band-mate) You worry too much, Miggy, mon ami. We've been practicing all week.

MIGUEL (softens) Gabri and I could have come out with you. You shouldn't go out in an unknown city alone. It's not safe for you, carnala.

HOBIE (puffs a bit, all charm, recognizing Miguel from the poster, he puts it together that R is the same girl from earlier. Hoping to impress this 'brother' of the cute girl, he offers Miguel his hand. Miguel looks him over and is unimpressed, he does not take Hobie's hand) Keeping the lady safe, mate. You can trust me. I'm one of the Spider-Punks.

GABRIEL (shoulders his brother to the side and takes Hobie's hand, gushing) We've heard of you guys, the local punk rock band, yeah? Your drummer is... gahh...Ah-Mazing! You think we could meet?

Someone's got a crush on Gwen Stacy.

MIGUEL (scoffing, stepping closer to R) You call that punk noise "rock"? Metal is where the real skill lies...Real talent is in the complexity, the technical skill. Metal pushes boundaries, takes you to new places. Punk's just three chords and an attitude.

HOBIE (visible shift in attitude, he eyes Miguel's massive frame) Never skip leg day, eh bruv?

R stifles a laugh as Miguel's face reddens with anger. Gabriel looks nervously between his brother and Hobie.

READER (trying to defuse the tension) Allez, let's save the competition for the stage, d'accord?

HOBIE (smirking, he stands, not as tall as Miguel, but nearly so) Tell you what, mate. Let's settle this on stage. We'll let the crowd decide who's got the real chops.

MIGUEL (grinning fiercely, are those...fangs?) You're on, punk. Prepare to be schooled.

READER (interjecting, her eyes sparkling with amusement) Ah, mais non, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, non? Who is your drummer, she sounds enchanting.

GABRIEL (nodding) She is, she's go this...energy. Pero, R's right, Miguel.

There is a not so subtle look that passes between the brothers, an undertone of: DON'T RUIN THIS FOR ME MANO from Gabri, Miguel nearly rolls his eyes.

Music's music. Let's just focus on putting on a good show and maybe we can learn something from their band, eh?

HOBIE (winking at Reader) Aye, love. Can't wait to teach your wall of meat here a thing or two. Let's give 'em a show they won't forget...later?

READER (brightly, oblivious to the brothers' feelings) Later!

As Hobie saunters off, Miguel glares after him, his fists clenched. Gabriel places a calming hand on his brother's arm.

GABRIEL (softly) Easy, hermano. He's not worth it.

As Hobie leaves the bar, Reader shoots Miguel a disapproving look.

READER (oblivious to the brothers' feelings) Was that really necessary?

MIGUEL (shrugging) Just giving him a taste of what's to come. We're going to blow them away, R.

GABRIEL (sighing) I hope this doesn't get out of hand, their drummer is way better...I wanted to meet her.

READER (shrugs, trying to ease the tension) You will, I'll be yoru wingman, yeah? Gabri. You got this. And mano, Miguel... nothing wrong with being confident, but..just...save that aggro energy out on the stage. Come on, we're going to kick some ass!

MIGUEL (glaring at Hobie's retreating back) Don't tempt me. Let's go, carnalita, time for practice.

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xxsycamore · 1 year ago

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>>𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

↬ 👙 While trying on bikinis, you make Napoleon hard. Public place or not, you know when you have to take responsibility.

Napoleon Bonaparte x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Changing Room Sex; Public Sex; Public Blow Jobs; Blow Jobs; Deepthroating; Come Swallowing; Praise Kink • wordcount: 1,032 • masterlist

a/n: I wrote this on a whim instead of sleeping. Don't look at me. For Late Summer Rendezvous, Day 5: Picking swimwear together goes naughty

"How is it?? Isn't it cuuute? I think it's even cuter than the last one!"

You spin around for Napoleon's eyes, showing off the bikini that got you gasping when you spotted it on the rack just a second ago. Just like the previous one. And the one before that.

Napoleon is understanding of the seriousness of the task. You gotta find the cutest one. It's tough.

Arms crossed in front of his chest, his dog tag necklace dangles slightly as he shakes his head with a troubled look on his face.

"I'm awful."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks just before you can pull the curtain of the changing room closed again, a hand already making its way behind you so you can get out of this swimsuit and into the next one faster. "Why?"

"Because..." Napoleon starts, grabbing a random hanger from the rack before checking if anyone is looking at how he is about to enter the cramped changing room together with you. He's just there to help, it's plausible enough.

Once inside, he enjoys the way you back up to the mirror; the little shiver noticeably running down your spine as your naked shoulders touch the cool surface. You try to make space for him as he suddenly has you trapped.

"Because you think you're looking cute in that, when all I see is a piece of clothing I want to rip off you."

Surprised, you open your mouth before even thinking of what to say but it's needless anyway, because Napoleon steals your opportunity to say anything coherent at all. His hand grasps yours, guiding it on the front of his trousers. He's got a hard-on.

"I'm- Oops?"

"Is this all you got to say after shamelessly seducing your boyfriend? You're impossible, Nunuche." The click of his tongue has you biting your lip, something about his faint irritation turning you on. Had you known Napoleon is that easily influenced by the sight of you in those bikinis, you would have put in more effort in making him hard, for the fun of it. Maybe it's not too late to play that game. You can leave him here and return with a pair that isn't intended to be cute and see what he thinks then, palming his cock as you ignore him.

But you're not that cruel. You're his Nunuche who is even hornier than him, like usual.

"Why are you falling to your knees? Don't tell me you intend to-"

"Suck you off in the changing room? Yes, in fact, I do!"

Napoleon's emerald eyes waver for a second in caution as he slightly tilts his head as if to hear for any signs of people nearby. He signals you to be quiet, and weren't it for the zipper in your mouth as you work his pants down, you would've told him to watch his own mouth from here on and not worry about you.

Letting his hard, throbbing length rest against your cheek, you look straight at Napoleon while lowering down your bikini so your breasts pop out. Withdrawing, you catch his cock in your mouth, a bead of precum falling on your hot tongue as you start sucking him nicely, not losing any time in teasing. You love the powerful eruptions he's capable of when the pace is fast and he's not bothering to hold himself back.

Granted, he's already making that erotic face that lets you know he gave up on self-control even if he previously held any hopes of achieving it. Feeling hotter and hotter with you at his feet, he cards his fingers through his bangs to move them aside as he puts his other hand on top of your head.

"Yeah, just like that... Merde, I'm close- Swallow it."

You feel electricity running through your body as he speaks those last words, awfully a lot like an order, an accidental one, as you understand he genuinely worries about you making a mess. Enthusiased to make him see stars, you put your heart to the task, taking him in as deep as you can as the tip presses to the back of your throat. The involuntary whine that comes from you is what sents him over the edge, a barely hidden noise of pleasure rumbling in his throat as he does his best to warn you not to choke on his cum before he explodes.

You lose track of the times you take a big gulp of cum down your throat, and the thought has you lightheaded. Your boyfriend's vigor and potency are going to be the end of you one of these days.

Smiling weakly at him, you even tuck his cock back in his pants for him. "See, I swallowed everything and didn't make a mess!"

You can't quite put a finger on the expression Napoleon has on his face, if you didn't know any better, you'd assume he just got another hard-on, as you feel his thumb press onto your chin and swipe upwards to collect something, pushing it past your swollen lips. Swirling your tongue around it, you don't need to register the salty taste to figure out what it is.

"Yes, you did. Good girl."

Heart set on fire with the praise, you stand up to your feet again, turning around with your back to Napoleon to confuse him for a second before explaining as if it was obvious: "Does that mean we can now return to you picking up my swimsuit again? If you can't choose, I'll revoke your permission and just choose it myself..."

You feel his warm hands on your back, his low humming filling the small space as you steal a glance at him in the mirror untying your bikini top.

Instead of handing you the next pair, he first hooks his fingers inside your bottom piece and drags it down until it falls freely on the floor, leaving you completely naked.

"There, I'm choosing this one. I've been thinking about taking you skinny dipping for awhile now. And then some, ever since we got here. You can't refuse, can you?"

If it means one obstacle less in the way? You simply can't.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp smut #ikemen #ikemen napoleon #otome #late summer rendezvous ccc #late summer rendezvous

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jean-meowreau · 3 months ago

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Day 2 of Kinktober ft. Transdrew Minyard!

Polycule & Glory Hole: Andrew, Neil, Kevin, Jeremy, Jean, & Seth - Asexual Neil ♡

Future fic, all pro players! You can try Seth from my cold dead hands ♡ (full list of tags below cut)

Andrew was comfortable with his new team. He and Kevin and Neil took the time to handpick the best of the best. The cream of the crop– the 𝘤𝘳é𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘳é𝘮𝘦 as Jean would so annoyingly say. He grimaces at the comfortable feeling that blooms in his chest as he thinks of everyone on their starting line - everyone in his stupid, weird polycule that he would give his life for. He thought handling Neil was a lot - now he had five dumbasses to keep in line. Kevin, Jean, Jeremy, Seth, and Neil. He grimaces once more as that comfortable feeling in his chest blooms and shuts it out with a solid slam of the bathroom stall door. He turns around, assessing the space, making sure it was aptly clean. Kevin had a knack for it, and it met Andrew's standards.

It was currently 0300, their facilities were empty save the six of them, and Andrew really wanted to get out of his head for their game in two days. He tries to stop fixating on all of the plays Kevin made him memorise as he unfolds his support bench and sets it up, perfectly in line with the two holes on either stall wall. A small one and a large one. He keeps staring at them as he undresses, hanging his clothes on the hook on the door, and lays across the board. First his stomach, and then he changes his mind and switches to his back. He really wants to relax. He rests his feet against the wall and then grabs his phone and sends a text to their group chat before relaxing against the cushions and closing his eyes.

He's not sure how much later it is when the bathroom door creaks open, but five sets of footsteps come in and then come to a stop. Andrew can't help smiling to himself as he shifts around. His lower half is perfectly framed, and he knows it when he hears Jean mutter, “Merde!”

“Andrew,” Neil says quietly. “Terms?”

“Any hole, just give me some warning before coming in. If you want my ass, you're prepping me.”

“Orgasms?”

“I want out of my head, Neil. I don't care.”

“Thank you.”

It's the last thing Andrew hears before there are two knocks to the wall where his thighs are settled. It's all the warning he's provided before a warm mouth is wrapped around his dick and sucking, a tongue dipping down to lick over his already glistening cunt. Andrew hisses in pleasure, writhing against the cushion, before he tilts his head back as he hears two knocks on the wall closest to his head.

Jean's dick pushes through a second later and Andrew hums happily to himself as he lays his head back and drops his jaw, feeding his length in his mouth until it hits the back of his throat and he gags. There's more quiet cursing from Jean before he pulls back and then fucks back into Andrew's mouth. He sets a steady pace, gagging him only occasionally, and letting out a steady stream of curse-riddled praise as his dick twitches against Andrew's tongue. He gets so lost in it, in the relaxation of having his mouth used, that when two fingers dip into his cunt he moans happily and arches his back.

Movement at both ends freezes momentarily before Jean hisses out another stream of profanity and snaps his hips forward. His cock buries its way down Andrew's throat and he makes an appreciative sound as he pushes himself closer to try and get it just a bit deeper. Jean stays there, nothing but heavy breathing as he relishes in every gag his cock milks from Andrew's throat, before pulling back suddenly. All Andrew is afforded is a quick shout before cum is hitting his tongue and dripping onto the roof of his mouth. He pulls back and wraps his fingers around Jean's length, giving barely there squeezes as he fucks in and out of Andrew's fist and mouth and milks his orgasm.

Andrew tries not to feel too depressed when Jean pulls away, but his dick is quickly replaced. Jeremy is there to follow, short but oh so wonderfully thick. His mouth is watering, and he's about to swallow Jeremy whole, when he feels someone's rather fucking huge cock push its way inside his cunt. A thumb is rubbing against his dick as he arches his back. “Fucking Seth, you piece of shit–”

“God, you sound good whining my name like a pathetic little–”

“Finish that and I'll rip your dick off,” Andrew mutters. His threat doesn't live long, not after Seth laughs and thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt, and Andrew collapses against the cushion, seeing stars. He wants to scream when Seth pulls out almost as quick as he filled him up, but he's speaking before Andrew can fire off a threat.

“Roll over so I can prep you for Kevin, princess.”

“Seth–”

“Stop fighting, baby. Just do it, we know you secretly want to be good for us.”

Andrew sits up and reaches through the hole, taking hold of Seth's balls and giving them a less than pleasant squeeze. The fucking masochist doesn't do anything but moan high in the back of his throat and grab Andrew's wrist before taking a step closer.

“I should rip them off, right now.”

“But you won't,” Seth says, and Andrew hates that he can hear his smirk. “You're going to be a good boy and roll over so I can finger and fuck you while Jeremy gets your throat. Because you like it, don't you? And you want us to take care of you.”

Andrew scowls and gives Seth's balls another squeeze before he lets go and does switch to lay on his stomach. He tells himself he hates the appreciative wolf whistle he gets when Seth grabs his ass and gives it a squeeze, but any fight is fucked out of him with Seth's massive fucking dick filling him back up and rendering him mute. He hates how breathy his moans are, how each snap of Seth's hips earns him another, but damn if he isn't good at what he does. And Jeremy gently nudges the head of his cock against Andrew's lips. He parts them without a second thought, moans now muffled around the beautiful weight of a thick cock dragging across his tongue.

Back and forth, to and fro, slowly pushing towards the back of his throat. The first time he gags, Seth curses loudly and snaps his hips forward before grinding deep. “Jeremy, do that again. He's like a fucking vice.”

“Andrew?” Jeremy asks quietly.

Andrew huffs through his nose and hollows out his cheeks, encouraging Jeremy. A swish of his tongue against the underside is the surprise pleasure point the blond needs, because he moans in surprise and then snaps his hips forward. Andrew gags, and Seth makes a noise akin to something feral. His fingernails dig into the meat of Andrew's ass.

“Fucking perfect, you two. Good fucking boys.”

Andrew feels a little jealous at the feeling of Jeremy's dick twitching against his tongue from Seth's praise, but again, he isn't afforded the brain capacity to be upset. Seth is rubbing lubed fingers against his ass, then two plunge inside in tandem with his dick and Andrew is choking around Jeremy's cock as his eyes roll back in his head. His palms slam against the wall, desperate to latch onto someone.

“Fuck, Andrew. God, you feel so fucking good,” Seth mutters. He repeats the same movements a few times before he switches to fucking his fingers into Andrew's ass as he pulls out of his cunt. Never leaving him empty. Just how he likes it…

Jeremy is doing a fucking stellar job, too. The drag of his cock against Andrew's tongue, the stretch of his lips wrapped around his girth, is slowly replacing his brains with cotton. Every fuck in, whether his mouth, ass, or cunt, is driving him further down into a comfortable cloud of nothing.

He doesn't react as viscerally this time to Jeremy hitting the back of his throat, and this time it's the blond's turn to mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath as he fucks down Andrew's throat again and again. Nothing but a barely there gag and perfect wet heat is wrapped around his dick, and it's pure fucking heaven. Andrew still doesn't pay much mind to Seth adding a third finger to his ass, but he does moan happily at the stretch and push his hips back. It earns him a harsh thrust from Seth before he pulls out and moans Andrew's name shakily. Cum splatters across the backs of his thighs and he lets his eyes fall shut. Everything is falling into place. Kevin is massaging his ass now, fucking between his cheeks and dragging the head of his cock against his hole and Andrew shudders, hips bucking into the touch.

“F-Fuck…” Jeremy whimpers, and Andrew moans happily at the knowledge he's pulled a curse from him. He hollows his cheeks out again, lifting a hand to wrap his fingers around the base of Jeremy's cock and add that last layer of pleasure to send him hurtling over the edge. Cum hits the back of his throat as Jeremy's dick gives a few valiant twitches against his tongue before he's stepping back and gasping Andrew's name as the rest of his load lands on his tongue.

As Jeremy pulls out, Kevin fucks in and Andrew melts against the cushion, trying and failing to hold back a shaky whine as he's slowly filled up again. Neil's scarred fingers poke through the hole in the door and Andrew makes another truly pitiful sound as he sucks them into his mouth. Neil hums happily and pets over his tongue, the wall shifting as he rests his weight against it. “I don't think I've got an orgasm in me. Is that okay, Drew?”

Andrew whines low in the back of his throat, trying to chase after Neil's fingers when he removes them so he can reply. “ ‘s fine… gimme…”

“And if I can't get hard?” Neil asks, and though he's teasing, Andrew makes a truly pitiful sound at the thought.

“Careful,” Seth teases, his voice now on the same side as Neil's, “he might think you don't like him any more.”

Andrew whines quietly before reaching through the hole and aiming his middle finger where he thinks Seth is. He hears laughter and feels mildly proud of himself, but it doesn't last long because Kevin has decided he's had enough time to adjust.

“Wait,” Andrew gasps out. “Lemme– lemme get on my back.”

Neil is the only person who replies, but Kevin seems to be pouting through his movements as he slowly pulls out. Andrew takes a steadying breath before he slowly stands and turns around. His head is spinning, but in a comfortable way, and when he lays back down, every muscle that had been starting to cramp no longer hurt. Kevin, impatient as he was, didn't give Andrew much longer than that before he was spreading his ass, thumbs dipping down to massage his hole, and rubbing his cockhead at his entrance. “Andrew–”

“Fuck me, yeah,” he huffs out, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Neil's cockhead brushes against his lips a few seconds later and Andrew makes a happy sound as he opens his mouth. He's half-hard, which is a treat for unplanned sex, and Andrew hums around his length, hoping to convey his gratitude.

Neil curses quietly from the other side of the wall, and the stall creaks as Andrew assumes he leans his entire weight against it to fuck as deep as he can at the moment. It's perfect for now, his somewhat soft cock slowly filling out as he fucks back and forth across Andrew’s tongue in short rolls of his hips. From there, as Kevin slowly fucks back into Andrew's replaces any higher brain function Andrew may have with his dick, he slips into a comfortable fog.

He doesn't pay much attention except to appreciate the feeling of being used, of being of service, of taking care of while being taken care of. Even when his body starts shaking, when the support beneath him is creaking from the force behind Kevin's thrusts, Andrew can only care to clench around the cock splitting him open. Between his legs feels like white-hot heat, fingers now fucking into his cunt, a thumb circling his dick. And then that heat is wet, he can only assume it's someone's mouth, and he's choking around Neil’s cock as he yells through his orgasm. Neil dips his fingers through the slight gap, pulling back so he isn't fucking down Andrew's throat and he can yell as Neil strokes his fingertips against his cheek and offers him quiet praise.

Kevin is silent, but he's fucking into Andrew at a break neck pace, his nails digging into his ass as he holds him open.

“A-Andrew–” Kevin finally gasps out, thighs shaking as he steps in closer and the fingers fucking into Andrew shift to shorter movements.

Jeremy's voice is quiet as he coos praise at Kevin, encouraging his orgasm. Andrew moans low in his throat, a tremor running down his own spine at some of the filth being spewed. “Kevin– fuck. C'mon, inside!” Andrew demands through gritted teeth. It seems to be the encouragement Kevin needs, because he manages a few more sloppy thrusts before burying in to the hilt.

The fingers buried in Andrew are removed before the unmistakable feeling of Kevin's trembling fingers are pressing inside. He strokes against Andrew's walls, hips grinding forward at the wrecked noise Andrew makes in response.

“Do you have another?” Kevin asks– pleads, his thumb even trembling as he trails it against the underside of Andrew's dick before rubbing against the sensitive tip. He doesn't expect a verbal response, thankfully, but Andrew answers in kind as he curls in on himself and hits his fist against the wall, trying desperately to gasp out Kevin's name, to praise him for his good behavior, but a third orgasm is rendering him mute and all he can do is fling his arms up to grab the top of the stall and hold on for dear life.

He's allowed a few seconds of mind-numbing bliss before the door clicks open and Neil steps inside, wrapping an arm around Andrew's waist to support him. “Relax, I've got you,” he says quietly, massaging the backs of Andrew's hands so he releases his grip and collapses into Neil. He laughs quietly at the absolutely pitiful sound Andrew can't help when Kevin pulls out of him. “Get the plug, Day. Give the princess what he wants.”

“You can't… not you, too,” Andrew huffs out, but there's the barest hint of a smile as he tucks his face in the curve of Neil’s neck.

“Mmm, I'd agree if you didn't turn redder just now, somehow,” Neil says, trying to whisper so Seth can't hear. It's futile, because the door creaks open and said asshole is on the other side looking smugger than he really deserves to be.

“Can I carry the princess to the showers?”

Neil grins at Andrews’s faux annoyed sound. But the blond still holds his arms out to Seth after Neil steps out of the way. “Jean already has the showers going so it's nice and steamy. Let's go.”

“Bossy,” Seth huffs as he scoops Andrew up bridal style, making sure to hold him close.

“Yeah, but, like…” Neil waves his hand dismissively. “Everyone likes it.”

#aftg #all for the game #aftg fandom #aftg trilogy #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #jeremy knox #jean moreau #jean jeremy andrew neil kevin #AND SETH!#seth gordon #trans andrew minyard #ace neil josten #asexual neil josten

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justlookfrightened · 9 months ago

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Writing Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Tagged by: @ohyoufool, who came up with the idea for the fic I'm working on now .... so thanks for giving me a reason to preocrastinate writing!

Note: All of these are Zimbits, or pre-Zimbits

It Started at the Office Part II, or the Importance of Grandmothers

Bitty seated himself on the bench next to Jack and reached for the plastic container of cookies and the thermos of hot chocolate he’d brought.

It Started at the Office

Bitty took a sip of his peppermint latte and grimaced.

These first two are parts of a series, so maybe it makes sense that they start similarly: A simple declarative sentence starting with Bitty's name and telling the readers what he is doing.

Pre-Christmas Epiphany

“Where’s Bittle?” Jack asked, glancing around the Haus kitchen.

This fic is from Jack's POV, so here we start with him voicing a thought. A thought that tells all we need to know: He is inexorably oriented to Bitty.

Hot-lanta

“Hot-lanta,” Tater had said.

“It’ll be fun,” Tater had said.

Another Jack POV fic, this time starting with unvoiced thoughts.

Making My Head Spin

Bitty skated out onto the ice at the Falconers training center and took it all in.

This fic alternates POC and starts with Bitty. The first line is intended to evoke the scene I saw in my mind when I started thinking about it.

Small

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, holding onto his stick and not quite meeting Bitty’s eyes. “Shitty said it was small of me to say that.”

This is more of a ficlet -- just over 1K words -- but the first line belongs to Jack, despite it being Bitty's POV.

The Long and Winding Road

Merde.

Jack recoiled from the table in the front of the bookstore, pivoted on his heel and left.

Okay, that's two lines ... but I didn't want to leave it at a single French profanity. This is one of my longest fics -- alternating POV again, because I have a hard time not telling everyone what both main characters are thinking -- and it starts with Jack.

Easy as sliding downhill

“Come on, Bits. It’ll be fun,” Lardo said.

Remarkably similar to the beginning of "Hot-lanta," except in New England in the winter from Bitty's POV. Notably, both fics feature a meet-cute.

When Bitty Met Jack

Jack pulled into the rink parking lot and stopped near a blond kid — young man, maybe, but he still looked like a kid — standing under the sign. He had a duffel bag at his feet and a big cardboard box behind him.

This is a retelling of "When Harry Met Sally," so it starts with Jack (in the Sally role) getting his first glimpse of Bitty.

Birthday Surprise

“So how did you celebrate Canada Day when you were growing up?’ Bitty asked, carrying the pie to the table. “Was it like the Fourth of July, with parades and fireworks and red and white bunting everywhere?”

This is a Jack-POV fic and begins with talking to him. Once again, the opening dialogue opens the theme, this time of celebrations.

Tagging @onetwistedmiracle, who beta'd most of these, and anyone else who would like to play!

#my fic #tag game

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amewinterswriting · 1 year ago

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Name Meaning Tag

I've been tagged by both @winterandwords and @ahordeofwasps! Thanks! My character names are either really carefully thought out for hours (with multiple dictionaries, google translate and enough baby name websites open that advertisers think that I, a committed childfree lesbian on birth control is pregnant...) or I give them a quick placeholder name that somehow sticks. Some highlights from Magic's Servant:

Talli

A common Welsh name, so I didn't research much when I named her - I was aiming for a name that wouldn't raise any eyebrows to a Welsh audience. According to some sources, it means: “shining brow” or “shining forehead” (from “tal” = forehead/brow + “iesin” = shining). Unfortunately, as someone with just enough Welsh to be dangerous, I'm pretty sure that's entirely made up, given that tall = tal and shining = disgleirio. In my humble opinion, it's probably a modernised version of the name Taliesin, who was an early Brittonic poet of Sub-Roman Britain whose work has possibly survived in a Middle Welsh manuscript, the Book of Taliesin.

Cerberus

Obviously named for the Greek three-headed dog guarding the underworld. He's a cat. That does get pointed out. Even Talli doesn't take his name at face value. It's almost as if he's deliberately chosen an ill-fitting name, but why?

Eira

Welsh for snow. She's a white dove, and there is a significance to the idea of white feathers falling like snow in her name. That's about as much as I can say there...

Ryn

Short for Aderyn, which is bird in Welsh. This one would raise eyebrows to a Welsh audience - it's not really a name, it's a noun. That's intentional - she has hippie parents who liked the sound of a nature name in a language they don't speak. Kinda the cultural equivalent of getting a tattoo you believe says 'courage' but actually says 'chicken fried rice'. Hence why she prefers to shorten it.

Viola

Actually short for Violet, which is fairly obvious in terms of meaning. In universe, she has a very solid reason for disliking her given name and preferring her nickname, namely: [redacted for spoilers].

Amato and Desidero

Beloved and wish/desire in Italian, respectively. Similarly, not actual names, but they do tell a heck of a story just by close proximity to each other, huh?

Myrddin

Original form of Merlin. So fun fact, we can pretty much trace the name change in Arthurian myth to one Geoffrey of Monmouth, who was a cleric who wrote down and embellished a lot of the original myths and legends, mostly to sell on the continent. France was particularly into chivalrous romances at the time so a lot of his changes were made for a French audience and apparently Myrddin sounds a little too close to merde...hence the name changed to Merlin. But since this is a story steeped in Welsh culture and experiences, I'm deliberately using Myrddin.

Tagging: @red-pen-ally, @jay-avian, @sam-glade and OPEN for anyone who read this far and wants to give it a go!

#tag games #character name tag #magic's servant #ame talks

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grandhotelabyss · 2 years ago

Note

I recently watched Donald Cammell’s WHITE OF THE EYE, which you prefer over Zulawski’s own 80s cult classic POSSESSION. When you speak highly of a film on here I take it seriously, and was not let down: a narratively, thematically, and aesthetically rich (and just remarkably weird) desert southwest giallo slasher of sorts with sinister performances from David Keith and Cathy Moriarty. As I can no longer find the post where you first mentioned it, would you speak more to why you like it?

Thank you, and I'm glad you liked it! I had trouble finding the original post too—Tumblr's tagging system used to use hyphens for spaces and now doesn't, making even reasonably labeled things hard to rediscover—but I did manage to dig it up. I hope you don't mind if I simply paste it in here since a lot of newer readers probably missed it. I only saw the movie once and won't try to recapture the (over)enthusiastic prose I wrote upon the first viewing. Tumblr is also bad at date-labeling things, but I believe this dates from summer 2021.

___________________________________________________________

I now believe White of the Eye (1987) is criminally unheralded in the semi-arty horror-thriller pantheon (do not, please, speak to me of Ari Aster).

Being a philistine, I like White of the Eye better, for instance, than the connoisseur’s go-to ’80s cult object, Żuławski’s Possession, which I find unendurably over-stylized despite its other merits. Fun fact: Possession was co-written by novelists’ novelist Frederic Tuten, who once received the most extravagant blurb from my beloved Cynthia Ozick, as friend-of-the-blog @danskjavlarna pointed out: “What an amazing, glittering, glowing, Proustian, Conradian, Borgesian, diamond-faceted, language-studded, myth-drowned dream!” exclaimed our greatest living Republican-voting novelist (remember that Cormac McCarthy doesn’t vote). Tuten, by the way, is not to be blamed for what I call Possession’s over-stylization, which is a matter of performance not script. But I don’t want to get into a hipper-than-thou spiral, “My cult movie’s better than your cult movie,” to be trapped in a crisis of Girard’s mimetic desire or Bourdieu’s cultural capital—merde, but the French are depressing, “too human, too historical,” as Deleuze complained in acclaiming “the superiority of Anglo-American literature.” The work of art has formal, affective, conceptual intrinsic qualities, not just extrinsic social determinants, and White of the Eye is, I argue, intrinsically spectacular.

Speaking of performance: White of the Eye was directed by Donald Cammell, the co-director with Nicolas Roeg of the classic 1970 film Performance. Again a philistine, I could never get into Performance—never even watched it all the way through—even though it sits at the nexus of two of my early influences. First, in a Comics Journal interview in the mid-’90s, English artist Bryan Talbot credited Performance’s jump-cut montage techniques for inspiring the storytelling innovations in his graphic novel The Adventures of Luther Arkwright. The underread Arkwright is the lost key to comics’s British Invasion—without it we wouldn’t have had V for Vendetta, Watchmen, Sandman, or The Invisibles. (It’s also a key to this movement’s cryptic politics, as Talbot stages a Jacobite uprising as anti-fascist revolution, precursor to Moore’s much more famous but still baffling ancom in Guy Fawkes garb. Is all anarchism Tory anarchism?) Second, Performance was a particular interest of Professor Colin MacCabe’s, whose class on James Joyce, with its mind-altering 12 weeks on Ulysses, helped to make me the reader and writer I am today back in that explosive landmark year, 2001. Protagonist of an epochal affaire in poststructuralism’s history and erstwhile director of the British Film Institute, MacCabe later wrote a book on Performance, which, alas, unlike his books on Joyce and Godard, I haven’t read.

I like White of the Eye better than Performance as I like it better than Possession, though. Mysterious symbolism, desert desolation, languorous eroticism, and, yes, some montage. The scorching, doomed marriage between a fanatic Western audiophile—he looks like the young W. Bush—and his breathy, no-nonsense New York wife; a Paglia-esque misogynist rampage (“that fuckin’ black hole…if that’s not female, I don’t know what is”) in an arid outpost of the Reagan-era bourgeoisie and its multicultural fringe: it all evokes the inherent evil of the American landscape that Burroughs observes in Naked Lunch. It has that ’80s quality of emotional amplitude not just between but within scenes. At every moment you might ask, “Is this sad, funny, or horrifying?” and answer, “Yes.” I do see filmmakers today working in the same vein and aspiring to the same compass. Witness the already famous Jacques Derrida High School in David Prior’s ultimately disappointing Empty Man or the scarcely resistible vaporwave dreamscape of Anthony Scott Burns’s also ultimately disappointing Come True (can’t anybody end a movie anymore?). But White of the Eye does it without effort or self-consciousness, as the very essence of its being an artwork at all—an artifact from a lost civilization.

#donald cammell #nicolas roeg #andrjez zulawski #colin maccabe #horror #horror film #cinema #film criticism #frederic tuten

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dru-reblogs-stuff · 2 years ago

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Get to know you tag

I was tagged by @wispstalk, ty

Do you play an instrument?

My voice? Well, idk, I haven't been in a choir for years. I like singing while I cook, I have a few go-to songs that don't take a lot of brain to sing while I fry.

Once upon a time I started the violin but it's too big for me and I never bothered getting a smaller one.

Favourite book characters?

*cries in having to choose* - William Laurence from the Temeraire series - Nanny Ogg from Discworld - Locke Lamora, Jean Tannen and Sabetha from the Gentleman Bastard Sequence series - Cornel MASON from Terra Ignota series - Rally Vincent from GunSmith Cats (manga) That's probably enough...

What’s your star sign?

If we go by the 12 system, Leo; by the 13, then Cancer. IDK, I feel the same way about astrology as I do most religion.

Favourite colour schemes?

dark claret/ burgundy and coffee-cream; everything in the range from mid green to the end of purple; patinated dark hardwood, brass and baize-green. IDK man. Do you like the colour of the sky.jpg

Naps or long sleep?

Looooong sleep. I can only nap if I'm utterly dead on my feet, and then I tend to have like 2h 'naps'

What languages do you speak?

English native. A smattering of French, a smattering of Danish - enough to get them to say "Merde/ Lort! Stop butchering my language. I'll speak English!"

Dreams/aspirations?

Currently having that fun depression trait of not being able to see past the next 2 months, so currently nada.

Long hair or Short Hair?

Short. I've done long hair and discovered it's just irritating.

Tea or coffee?

...Both? Both is good. Tea (infusions) over coffee, only because I like my heart having a regular sinus rhythm.

Bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world?

Go to a fictional world. I'm sure I'd not survive for long, but just image how much easier it would be to write Fighting Fantasy World of Titan stories when I'm in them.

Tagging: @nostalgicyorkshiregirl @lavender-hued-melancholy and anyone else who fancies it

#tag game #get to know you tag

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apricotgojo · 4 years ago

Note

hello! I was wondering if I could request a kinda spicy kinda not spicy chat noir x reader fic? It can literally be about anything you want. Please and ty❤️❤️

AHHH I’M SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT I FINALLY WROTE IT ! Thank you for the submission anon! <333 i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy it!

Ship: Chat Noir x Reader

Warnings! : SEMI-NSFW, all characters are aged up here!, swearing!

Tags: enemies to lovers?? ;))

“merde.”

That was the first word you hear that caused you to open your eyes. Your head was hurting and your whole body ached. You rubbed your eyes and sat up on the cold floor beneath you.

You saw Chat Noir sitting, slumped in front of you with his head resting back against the wall.

Great he was here too. You guys didn’t really get along, mostly because he tried to flirt with you on the first day he saw you and you didn’t want to put up with his shit because you knew he did that to every girl he saw. You both started growing pissy with each other since that day. now you were stuck with him in this dark, humid room.

where were you guys? most importantly what happened that got you both here? you furrow your eyebrows as you try to recall what happened. All you can remember was Ladybug giving you the bat miraculous to fight along side them again. Then you went near the Louvre where the villain was and both you and Chat Noir made a run towards him. that’s all you could remember.

“You’re finally awake.” You hear him croak.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at him. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and his chest was moving up and down with every deep break he took. He looked hot. wait, what no he didn’t why are you thinking that? “what happened?” You ask him. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and your body felt warm. Too warm.

“the villain knocked us out with his power and Lady locked us up in this room until she changes everything back to normal.” He says and slides a note to you. You grab the note and begin to read it.

Hi guys. You were both hit by the villain and got knocked out. I had to put you both in this room and lock you in here until I change everything. Don’t worry Rena is here to help me. Whatever you do, don’t give in to certain thoughts and fight against urges. -Ladybug.

You furrow your eyebrows. fight against urges? What power did this villain have?

“I don’t know why she’s keeping us locked in here, I mean, I’m awake now so everything must be fine,right?” You say as you get up from the floor and walk to the door. You feel a hand grab yours and turn around to see Chat Noir in front of you. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour. “Not so fast, bat.” He whispers. “His power wasn’t just to knock us out.” He says.

You look down, your eyes fixated on his body. Your body starts burning you. why the fuck was it so hot in there?

“T-Then what is it?” You ask, looking up at him again and noticing how big his pupils have become.

“Hawkmoth gave him to power to make people uncontrollably aroused.” He states, looking down at your lips. oh.

This is what ladybug meant by fighting your urges.

You instantly pull back from him and scoff.

“as if, I’d ever be aroused at the sight of you.” You say and cross your arms over your chest, turning around and giving your back to him. You were lying, you knew that every time you looked at him you could feel your body burning and aching for his touch.

You gulp and sit back down where you were, trying your best not to look at him.

“Yeah because it’s not like you want to rip all my clothes off and suck me dry whenever you look at me, it’s just cause you hate me right?” He says, chuckling dryly.

You instantly feel your cheeks heat up at his words and your legs close together. fight the urge. fight the urge. fight the urge. that’s what you kept telling yourself but god you needed some type of release so bad.

“What is it now, Chat got your tongue?” You hear him whisper in your ear and your head instantly turns to face him.

How did he get there?

Your faces were inches apart. Your lips were both parted, your cheeks both red and your breathing increased with every passing second that you stared down at his pink lips. They were a deep shade of pink, mostly because he was biting them so much because of the frustration. You look down at his body again, the bulge in his suit was evident and it made you rub your thighs together even more. You knew he wanted it as bad as you.

But why him? You hoped that when Ladybug reverted the damage done by the villain, you wouldn’t remember this at all. But maybe the attraction to him was always there.

But you never wanted it this bad before in your life.

Fucking akuma.

Your body moves without you realizing and you end up straddling him, catching him off guard. His hands move to your thighs for support and you swear that it took everything you had in you to repress the moan you wanted to let out simply because he touched your body.

“Shut up, kitty.” You say, your noses touching and your hand running through his hair.

You felt vibrations emerging from his chest as he rolled his eyes back. He was purring.

Holy shit. You wanted to remember this moment just to be able to tease him afterwards. You couldn’t take it anymore. This stupid teasing. Ladybug’s voice started speaking in the back of your head.

Don’t give in to certain thoughts.

It’s your fault for locking us up In here together Ladybug so, fuck you.

You move closer to his face and lick his lips gently and slowly.

You feel his grip on your thighs tighten.

“Holy shit, we can’t do this.” He breathes out while you start kissing down his jaw.

“why not kitty?” you mumble against his skin.

“Because I don’t think I want to forget it.”

“Maybe we wont.” You whisper and look up at him with half lidded eyes.

And with that, he crashes his lips onto yours.

It was pure bliss.

Just what you needed. Just what your body was aching for.

Okay, maybe your body did want more but this was something that gave you that hint of satisfaction.

Your lips moved in sync and your hands wouldn’t stop running through his hair.

Your bodies started moving together, both eager to get any type of friction, any type of satisfaction. God you needed him so bad that it was painful.

The room was filled with lewd noises you made while you kissed and small grunts and moans that escaped your lips.

You wanted more and at this point you couldn’t think straight anymore.

A hand moved from his hair down to his shoulder. You gripped it a bit for support before making your way to the bell on his neck. You fiddled with his bell before you noticed something behind it. A zipper. Jackpot.

You felt his teeth bite your lower lip and you let out a soft whimper. You gripped the zipper and began to slowly pull it down.

You froze when you felt a gust of wind overcome you.

A surge of pain went through your head and you shut your eyes. you opened your eyes again and realized that you were on top of Chat Noir.

What the fuck? You fell on your ass and rubbed your head. “What the hell happened?” He asks scratching his head.

You were about to respond until you hear footsteps and the door unlocking to reveal Ladybug and Rena Rouge

“Are you guys ok-“ She stops and looks at both of you, her eyes wide.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at Chat who has his hair disheveled and his lips red. Little red marks were peppered from his jaw, down to his neck and then it hit you like a truck.

Holy shit.

“Oh my god do you think they-?” Rena didn’t finish her sentence and started chuckling.

“we what?” Chat asked, confusion filling his voice.

Ladybug shook her head and laughed nervously. “Nothing, the villain knocked both of you guys out and we put you here for your safety.” She says and grabs the sticky note from the floor, crumbling it in her hand.

“You guys don’t remember anything right?” Rena asks, smirking.

Chat shakes his head and gets up.

But you did remember everything.

#chat noir x reader #chat noir #cat noir #mlb #miraculous ladybug

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Text

Wisdom With Age

Follow-up to Leo getting his wisdom teeth out: it’s Loops’ turn! Hope you enjoy :) Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for dental work, wisdom teeth removal, anesthesia, and surgery (mentioned)

Sirius carefully, but firmly, set his hand on Remus’ knee to stop it from bouncing. “Sorry,” Remus muttered, then immediately began worrying at the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Okay,” Sirius said under his breath, turning in his seat and taking both of Remus’ hands in his own. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus muttered as his eyes flickered up to Sirius’ face. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”

“I know, but you have to do it.”

“Why? They’re my teeth, it’s my mouth, and is it such a bad thing if I don’t want people poking around in it?” The leg started bouncing again. “I mean, humans survived for thousands of years with their wisdom teeth, and—and teeth serve a lot of very important purposes besides chewing. This could fuck up my ears, and my hearing—”

“Remus.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Sirius began tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “You know better than anyone why this is important, and it’s dangerous to keep them in any longer than you already have. I totally respect that you’re freaked out right now, but you’ve got to calm down. These guys do this all the time.”

“There are always exceptions.”

Yes, I know, I’ve been thinking about all those scenarios for the past two weeks. “And you won’t be one of them. How long did you spend finding this place, again?” There was a beat of silence. “Re.”

“Four hours,” he muttered.

“Exactly. You did your research.” Remus’ eyes wandered up to the clock and his grip tightened when he saw how little time was left until their appointment. Distraction, distraction—“Tell me why you chose this place.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You spent four hours sifting through dentists’ offices online, right? Tell me why this one stood out to you.”

“Um. Well, I guess it was just a combination of things. They have really good ratings and this is where Leo got his out, which went well. He was on his feet within a week, which was impressive. The equipment is good quality and—”

“Remus Lupin?”

“Oh, fuck me.” The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, and he flushed deep red as Sirius hid a smile in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Hi, that’s me. Remus Lupin. I’m…a little nervous.”

Her face softened as she walked over. “That’s perfectly normal. We have a little bit of paperwork for you to look over and then we’ll get started. Is this the person who will be driving you home?”

“That’s me. How long will it take?”

“Oh, an hour or so. Not long.” She handed Remus a pen before turning back to Sirius. “We do these procedures all the time, so there’s nothing to worry about. The surgery is quick and easy.”

Remus’ hand skidded across the page on the word ‘surgery’ and Sirius squeezed his thigh gently as he took a trembling breath. “Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Sirius said with a smile while Remus read. “We really appreciate it.”

“Why does this have to be so important?” Remus mumbled as he signed the last page.

The nurse shrugged. “Human bodies are funny things.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was a physical therapist for six years,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Unfortunately, that means I know exactly why putting this off for so long was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know about a bad idea.” The nurse tilted her head to the side. “You still came in to do it before there were any problems, right? That seems pretty smart to me, and very brave.”

“She’s right,” Sirius said quietly, knocking their shoulders together. “You’ve got this, mon loup.”

The nurse waited patiently while he took a few deep breaths before standing up and hugging Sirius tight around the chest. “You’ll be here, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and the inside of his wrist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The tension returned to Remus’ shoulders as he followed the nurse out of the lobby; Sirius sat down and grabbed a magazine to distract himself for the next hour.

------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came back out. Sirius stood up immediately as fear bolted through his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she soothed, taking the seat next to his with a sigh. “There was a bit of trouble getting him to fall asleep, though.”

“Oh?” Sirius tried to keep his voice neutral as he sat down, but even he could tell it didn’t work that well.

She gave him an amused look. “Your boy is stubborn. We get nervous people all the time, but he seemed to have a personal vendetta against our anesthesiologist. The countdown usually lasts three seconds, maximum, but I made it all the way down to five before he was out.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s just fine.” She patted his hand.

“He’s been avoiding this for about four years now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Hates hospitals and dentists, but still got a medical degree.” Sirius huffed. “His mom threatened to drive here from Wisconsin and drag him in by the ear if he didn’t schedule it soon.”

The nurse smiled. “You’d be surprised by how many young folks we get in here shaking in their boots. It’s really not that bad of a procedure, but all you hear about are the times it went wrong.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. “Is it normal to be nervous for him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Lots of people cry while they’re waiting, though I haven’t quite figured out why. Feel free to do some wailing if you think it’ll help.”

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer,” Sirius laughed. There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of him being in there all alone.”

“Oh, honey, nobody does.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “We always want to be there for the ones we love. Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This summer.” He smiled to himself. “I’m really excited.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We’ve known each other for six years or so, but we’ve only been dating for one.”

They chatted back and forth, and Sirius felt his nerves melt away as the conversation turned to Harry, then Regulus and Jules, until a tall man in a white coat poked his head into the lobby. “Do we have a companion for Remus Lupin in here?”

Sirius raised his hand. “That’s me.”

“Come on back, he just woke up.”

The dentist’s office smelled different than a hospital, which Sirius was grateful for. Remus wouldn’t like waking up with the scent of rubbing alcohol all around him. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with various murals for the younger patients—each room had its own name tag with stickers.

“Remus?” The doctor knocked on the door as he opened it. “We’ve got someone here for you.”

“Hmm?” Remus blinked sleepily at them from the table; his face was puffy from anesthesia and gauze.

“Hey, Re,” Sirius said, taking his hand and rubbing it between his own. “Are you ready to go home?”

Remus squinted at him for a long moment. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Did what hurt?”

A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “When you fell from heaven. Hiya, handsome, I’m Remus.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sirius looked back at the doctor, who was hiding his laughter in his hand.

“Here’s your aftercare sheet,” he said, pushing the wheelchair a little closer and handing Sirius a piece of paper. “Can you get him outside by yourself?”

Sirius nodded. “It might take some manhandling, but I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right, you’re fine,” Remus snorted.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered. “Alright, you shameless flirt, can you sit up by yourself?”

Remus winked at him, though it was more like a slow blink. “Might take some manhandling. What’s your name, angel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He shrugged as Sirius helped him clamber into the wheelchair. “I need something to yell.”

“Holy shit, Re!” Sirius spluttered, nearly steering him straight into the cupboards in surprise. “You can’t just say that in the middle of a dentist’s office!”

Remus frowned and glanced around the room. “Is that where I am?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t like dentists. Or hospitals. Super fuckin’ creepy.”

“Yes, I know.” The hall was mostly empty, thank god. “You’ve told me.”

“Have we met before?” Remus stared up at him and nearly went crosseyed. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“We’ve known each other for six years.”

“Huh. I really hope we’re dating, because there’s no way I’m passing up a chance to tap that.”

“You know, Leo was incredibly sweet when his wisdom teeth got taken out,” Sirius sighed as they went down the next corridor. “He called Finn ‘pretty’ and then only wanted cuddles for a few days. You, on the other hand, were apparently so stubborn that they had to spend twenty minutes putting you to sleep, and now you’re hitting on me like a drunk frat boy.”

“I can call you pretty if you want.” Sirius stopped walking as Remus reached up to trail a surprisingly steady hand down his cheek; some of the flirty mischief was replaced by awe. “You really are beautiful. What’s your name? For real this time, I want to know.”

“Sirius.”

“Like the star.” The corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled. “Brightest one in the sky. It fits.”

“Just for that, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Sirius said as they neared the exit.

“Oh?”

“We’re engaged.”

“What?”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #wisdom teeth #tw dental work #my fic #fanfic

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morporkian-cryptid · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 11,307 times in 2022

204 posts created (2%)

11,103 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quazarrising

@just-a-little-unionoid

@violets-with-violence

@thebaronneverlies

@hibernia-1

I tagged 4,921 of my posts in 2022

#lupin iii - 1,917 posts

#daisuke jigen - 556 posts

#goemon ishikawa - 281 posts

#discworld - 273 posts

#fujiko mine - 164 posts

#submas - 156 posts

#our flag means death - 144 posts

#jigen - 126 posts

#goncharov - 119 posts

#lupin iii part 6 - 113 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#honnêtement connaissant henri je pense que renard s'attend à ce que henri fasse des tests sur un échantillon de sa peau ou un bail du genre

My Top Posts in 2022:

The writing of Hanafuda is going well 👍

97 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Multilingual Lupin III Gang shenanigans!

We know that everyone in the LoopGang is multilingual, and there is no way their conversations wouldn't be chaos half of the time.

For the purpose of these headcanons, here's what each of them speaks:

Lupin: French and Japanese (both native), English (fluent), can get by in a bunch of other languages and quickly get to a respectable level of fluency with a few weeks' study

Jigen: English (native), Japanese (fluent, spoke it as a kid in his family), Italian (picked up a lot of it in NYC), French (learned while in Nice with Joe of Spades, later perfected it with Lupin)

Goemon: Japanese (native), a couple of Japanese dialects (fluent), English (fluent or nearly), a bit of French (currently trying to learn it)

Fujiko: Japanese (native), English (fluent), pretty much fluent in a bunch of languages and can easily learn a new one, like Lupin

Zenigata: Japanese (native), English (not fluent but can get by, pretty bad pronounciation because he mostly learned in textbooks), can get by with the basics in a lot of languages

(You're all warmly invited to add your own headcanons!)

---

The Gang is having a conversation in Japanese, a few English words are being thrown around, and Goemon can't remember a word in Japanese.

Cue Goemon having a small identity crisis.

---

They can never remember which idiom comes from which language, and often get bewildered reactions from others when they get it wrong.

(After Lupin told them a story about his father)

Goemon, solemnly: The son of a toad is a toad.

Jigen and Fujiko are keeled over with laughter, Lupin looks deathly offended.

----

Goemon texts in kanji, Fujiko mixes kanji with the occasional English word, Lupin writes in Japanese with roman letters, Jigen doesn't give a damn and writes in a lawless mix of Japanese and English. Their group chat is a nightmare.

----

Zenigata can't make a proper sentence in anything other than Japanese or English to save his life, but he can say "You're under arrest" and "Have you seen this man?" perfectly in 34 languages.

----

Lupin is usually well-spoken and polite, but in French he swears like a trucker. One day he stubs his toe against a table, and starts yelling "PUTAIN DE BORDEL DE MERDE D'ENCULE, FOUTUE TABLE DE MES DEUX!" (Fucking brothel of shit of ass-fucked, damned table of my two (implied: my two balls))

The next week, Jigen stubs his toe against the same table, and lets out one, loud, heartfelt, deeply american "FUCK!"

Fujiko forces them both to eat soap.

----

Fujiko and Lupin sometimes forget that the other two aren't fluent in a dozen languages, which can lead to conversations like this:

Fujiko (in German) : Hey, how would you say "Treppenwitz" in English?

Lupin (in German) : I dunno... (switching to English) Hey Goemon, how would you say "Treppenwitz" in English?

Goemon: ???????

See the full post

108 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

YOOOOOOO guess who's going to her local anime convention today! THIS GAL!!!

129 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

This is basically the equivalent of Jigen kissing him to shut him up

146 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

PSA to my followers: today is the annual "Discworld Feels Day" where all the Discworld fans crawl out of the woodwork like sleeper agents.

Expect a lot of lilac.

704 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

Text

Sweater Weather

(warnings in tags)

part xvi

“Will you be okay here?”

Sirius watched Regulus stare around at his large, empty house. Regulus raised his eyebrows.

“Is Tom Riddle here? Or Severus Snape?”

Sirius scoffed. “No.”

“Then, yes. I’ll be okay here,” Regulus jerked his chin towards the door. “I know you have things you need to do.”

Sirius nodded, jingling his keys in his pocket nervously. “Yeah. I…Yeah, I showed you the fridge, take whatever you want, and there are a bunch of bedrooms to choose from. PlayStation and shit in the basement, there’s a synthetic rink if you want—”

Regulus snorted. “Of course, there is.”

Sirius smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, fingers finding the chain of his necklace. “There’s—”

“Sirius,” Regulus raised an eyebrow and sat down on a kitchen stool, pointedly taking out his phone. “I’ll literally be fine. I know how to drive, I know how to cook.”

It was Sirius’ turn to raise an eyebrow.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “I know how to order take out.”

“Right.”

“Don’t worry. I know this is weird. Go see your boyfriend.”

“Are you sure? I could take you to Dumo’s.”

“The last thing I want is to be fussed over right now,” Regulus said. “I’m probably going to go nap or something, okay?”

Sirius nodded slowly, swallowing. “Okay. Okay, um, I mean, I don’t want to assume anything, but I also—I might not be back tonight?”

Regulus laughed, and it was familiar. So familiar it hurt and felt good at the same time. “I should hope not, if all goes well.”

Sirius laughed, too, maybe a little awkwardly.

“Bye,” Regulus said, then, more softly. “And thanks.”

Sirius watched his garage door open slowly, coat pulled tightly around him as he pressed the button to start his car. His little brother, his previously estranged, hockey runaway brother, was hanging out in his house while he went to tell the love of his life that he loved him. Sirius took a deep breath, and put the car into reverse.

Remus knew he was coming, had told him to come. Things had been good on the phone, Remus had told him to hurry. Sirius wanted him with every movement. Drumming his hands on the wheel, glancing in each of his mirrors, puffing his breath out in fog. Sirius’ hands were jittery as he parked the car and jogged his way up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, just to try and calm himself down. The result was that Remus’ door was looming in front of him much sooner than he expected and all there was left to do was knock.

In Sirius’ gut, there was the chance Remus didn’t want him after all. There was the chance that he was still laying on the ice, blood his only companion, pretending he could want this boy.

It took a few moments, each one feeling longer than the last, until the door was swung wide to reveal Remus, soft in a too big sweatshirt. They stared at each other.

“Hi,” Sirius fidgeted, his hands in the pockets of his long, wool coat. “Sorry it took so long, I have, um—”

“Your brother at your house,” Remus finished for him. “Are you okay? What’s…I mean, I want to know what’s happening with that but first, I…” Remus looked up at him with large eyes that practically broke Sirius’ heart.

Sirius took a long breath.

“I’m just going to say it. I don’t want to accept the things I’m not happy with,” Sirius took a step inside, Remus’ chin tilting up to hold his eyes. “I never want to run again. Re… I’m so sorry. I’ll wait, I’ll leave, I’ll stay. Tell me what you need? Please?”

The air stilled between them. Remus’ apartment smelled warm, like late-night coffee and the fleece blanket he kept on his couch. Remus looked at Sirius like he was everything, just stumbling through his door. He reached up and took the edges of Sirius’ coat, pulling him inside the apartment. Sirius took that as the sign he longed for. He stepped forward again, their chests nearly together, and pressed his fingers to Remus’ neck. Remus closed his eyes at the touch before looking back up at him with a small smile.

“You’re doing what I need,” Remus said. “What do you need?”

“I’m scared of a lot of things right now,” Sirius whispered. “But I’m the most scared of losing you.”

Remus brought his hands up to hold Sirius’. “You are?”

Sirius hated that Remus even questioned it. He couldn’t seem to get close enough, pressing them together, feeling Remus’ warmth through his shirt, breaking through the cold wool of his coat.

“Remember what you said? What you said about people who told me I wasn’t good enough?”

Remus’ hands tightened around his wrists. His eyes filled, becoming bright, and he nodded. “I’d make you forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Sirius said softly. “But I didn’t need you to make me forget.” He stroked his thumbs through the slow tears that blinked down Remus’ cheeks. “I needed you, so I could see that they were wrong.”

Remus let out a tear filled breath, curving a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Re,” Sirius whispered, brushing their noses together. “I see now.”

Remus pulled him in. “C’est l’heure?” He twisted his wrist, making his watch flash in the dim light. It’s time? he had asked.

Sirius smiled, tears in his throat, relief in his chest. “Oui. Mon vœu.”

“Sirius,” Remus said, and pulled him in, arms tight around his neck. “Sirius, Sirius…”

Remus said his name until they were kissing, the door swinging shut behind them. Remus kissed Sirius hard, hands on his cheeks.

“Re,” Sirius said. “I love you. I love you so much, I love you—”

Remus laughed wetly, a sound of pure relief as he kissed Sirius again and again. “I love you, too.” He said it between each kiss.

Something released inside Sirius’ chest, something so long knotted that it had nearly melded together, something tight that, now snapped loose, made him gasp and stumble. Remus swallowed it, kissing him tenderly, hands in his hair.

They parted, finally, and looked at each other again. Remus broke into a smile first, palms passing over Sirius’ wind-cold cheeks.

Sirius kissed Remus again. “Merde, do you want to go out to dinner and, I don’t know, make out the entire time? Hold your hand and…”

Oh. Sirius wanted to hold Remus’ hand.

Remus laughed. “That is something we could do now.”

Sirius had barely let himself thing about it, all the possibilities, but now that he was, it was overwhelming. They’d get looks, comments, he was sure, but he was more than used to that. He would get looks, comments, slurs…but he’d also get Remus. Remus, who he could keep.

“I want to,” Remus said, but at the same time he pushed at the collar of Sirius’ long coat, easing it off of his suit clad shoulders. “But…what if I want you all to myself first?”

Sirius took in a long breath. “You have me.”

Remus leaned up for a kiss before hanging Sirius’ wool coat on the coat rack by the door, his suit jacket to follow. Sirius was standing in his white button down and tie, his slim trousers and his shoes, until Remus tapped them with his socked-feet and he toed them off.

“Come on,” Remus said, then smiled as he pulled him through the room. “I love you.”

Remus’ bedroom was familiar and warm, a relief from hotel rooms and the crowds. His bed was made, if not rumpled, and there was a few of of Sirius’ t-shirts folded on the dresser. The sight of them warmed Sirius thoroughly. It made him think of his empty house, Regulus there now. It made him think of Remus there, Remus living there.

Remus’s fingers rose to the buttons by Sirius’ neck, undoing them one by one.

“I missed you so much,” Remus said. “God, I can’t even…” Remus laughed, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ neck. “It feels like I saw you years ago.”

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and Remus made a soft sound and finished off Sirius’ buttons, kissing the skin revealed as he eased the shirt away. It fell to the floor and Sirius reached for Remus’ sweatshirt hem, pushing it up until it fell, too.

Sirius looked at Remus’ shoulders, but he couldn’t even tell which one Greyback had destroyed. He bent anyway and placed a lingering kiss on each one. Remus watched him do it, hand in his hair and breath coming faster.

“Re,” Sirius began.

Remus ran his hands over Sirius’ shoulders. “You’re going to ask me about Greyback.”

Sirius hesitated, but nodded. “What—What he said, Remus. I can’t even…”

“It’s not a complicated story, and…and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of it,” Remus glanced up at him before looking straight ahead at Sirius’ necklace, glinting gold and silver in the light.

“He cornered me after a game,” Remus said slowly, and Sirius held him closer, standing there together, half-bare at the foot of Remus’ bed. “Scouts were there. They’d talked to me first. People were saying that I would be…”

“Number one,” Sirius said, and Remus nodded.

“He cornered me in the recovery room. I was always the last one in there. And he dislocated my shoulder. And then just sort of…” Remus’ hand flew to his throat, fingertips brushing the soft, strong curve where his shoulder met his neck. “Just sort of kept pulling.”

“Oh, mon coeur,” Sirius breathed.

“Told me to hide it. Told me I was ruined. He’d hit me earlier that game,” Remus let out a tight laugh. “Pretty weird thing coming from a teammate, and he was super apologetic afterwards. I didn’t understand what had happened. But now I realize it was to explain my injury for the cameras. He told me he knew. But there was no way he could have. But I was scared.”

Remus looked up at him. “There.” He pressed his hands to Sirius’ cheeks and kissed him again. “That’s the story. And I’m not scared anymore.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said. “Re, you can trust me with anything, I know I was wrong—what I did—but you can.”

Remus shushed him softly, and Sirius closed his eyes, leaning their foreheads together.

“Baby, I trust you because you were wrong. You were wrong, and you owned up to it. What in hell is more trustworthy than that?”

They were both slowly stitching back together.

“You don’t have to apologize anymore,” Remus said. “Okay? It’s us now. It happened and we’re surviving pretty fucking well.” He grinned into their next kiss. “We’re in love and maybe the world’s not as bad as we thought it was.”

Sirius thought of the shock waves, one after another, and knew that this must be what it felt like to be settled, really settled. The landscape looked different, but it was better.

“I love you,” Sirius laughed, and took Remus’ hips in his hands, walking him slowly back towards the bed and making Remus smile. “And I want you.”

Remus’ hands went to Sirius’ belt, the buckle jingling softly as Remus undid it.

“You have me,” Remus said as his hands pushed beneath Sirius’ pants, easing them down for Sirius to kick off. Sirius was left in his underwear, Remus still had his sweatpants on. They were still both mostly soft, but Sirius wanted to change that. He wanted to love Remus in as many ways possible.

“Lay back,” Sirius said softly, pressing a kiss to Remus’ mouth, his cheeks. He eased Remus back onto the bed with more kisses and soft hands until Remus was pale against the pillows and his arms were around Sirius’ neck. His kisses began to feel frantic after a moment, like he was afraid to stop. Remus’ fingers were tight in Sirius’ hair and a few soft, high sounds escaped whenever the broke before he was tilting his chin up with bruising kisses. Sirius pulled back with a few softer ones until they were looking at each other again.

“I’m not leaving,” Sirius said, settling between Remus’ thighs. “I’m here.”

Sirius felt some of the tension leave Remus’ body and watched his eyebrows draw together. He nodded.

“I know,” Remus said. “I just—now that you’re here, the moments when I thought you might leave hurt more. But…it’s because I’m happy.” Remus’ fingers were softer now, brushing Sirius’ hair back lovingly. He laughed a little. “If that makes any sense.”

Sirius kissed him slowly, and felt the last of the tension leave. “It does.”

They kissed for a long time. Sirius didn’t know how long. He knew his lips felt raw and warm, that Remus was pliant and making soft sounds, and that their cocks were hard against each other. There was no urgency.

It was incredible, how much room there was for good things when you finally believed yourself to be good, too. And Sirius did. He didn’t regret himself anymore and he wasn’t ashamed. All that energy was being poured into himself. Into Regulus. It would be poured into his team and career. And finally, into Remus. Sirius felt light with it, like stepping from the ground onto the ice.

Remus’ hands went to Sirius’ boxers and pushed them down as they kissed. He swallowed Sirius’ groan as his cock pressed up freely against his stomach and reached down to gather the wetness down the shaft. When he started to press his hips up to get out of his sweatpants, Sirius leaned back and pulled them away, leaning forward to kiss his hips and stomach, back up his chest to his collarbones, and finally his shoulder. Sirius sucked warm kisses to where his muscles, once torn, dipped powerfully around his neck and arm, and then slotted their hips together with, finally, nothing between them.

“I want,” Remus breathed as Sirius rutted against him. He pressed his palms against Sirius’ back. “Sirius…”

“Yeah?” Sirius said. He’d do anything. He wanted everything.

“Will you fuck me?” Remus said softly, fingers in Sirius’ hair, pulling him in for another kiss. “Baby.”

Sirius half laughed, half groaned, and Remus smiled into their next kiss.

“Will I?” Sirius said and Remus laughed, too, hands pressing down Sirius’ back.

“Yes,” Sirius whispered, sucking a kiss into Remus’ jaw, his throat. “Yes…”

He throbbed with the thought of it, fingers shaky when Remus handed him a small bottle of lube that Sirius remembered from their first time, from Remus fucking Sirius.

Sirius rubbed a thumb over Remus’ hip, stroked his cock a few times, making him sigh. “Tell me what’s good, okay?”

Remus nodded, thighs spreading and feet planted on the bed.

Sirius went slow, watching Remus’ face more than anything else. Remus sunk back into the pillows, throat bared as Sirius kissed him, fingers gentle inside him. Remus kept him close, breath hitching as Sirius opened him up.

“It’s okay?” Sirius breathed. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” Remus said, and his mouth dropped open when Sirius curled his fingers. “Sirius.”

Sirius bent to kiss Remus’ jaw, his necklace brushing against Remus’ chest. Remus arched against him, breath hot against his neck as Sirius stroked his prostate. Remus’ cock drooled on his stomach, his hand tight around Sirius’ bicep.

“Love you,” Sirius whispered with a kiss to Remus’ jaw.

“Love you,” Remus gasped. “Love you, love you…”

Sirius moaned when he felt Remus tighten around his fingers, “Re…”

Remus tangled his fingers in Sirius’ hair, angling him into a deeper kiss. “I’m ready. Baby, I wan…”

Sirius pressed his fingers in one last time, drawing a high sound out of Remus that ended with a breathless laugh, brows drawn together.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Because I’m in love with you, that’s why.”

Remus wrapped his legs around Sirius’ waist. “Oh, yeah?”

Sirius pressed gentle kisses to Remus’ neck. He reached down a hand to wrap around Remus’ cock, giving it a few slow pulls before reaching for himself. “Je t’adore, mon vœu.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as Sirius pressed into him slowly. “Oh—” Remus’ legs tightened around him, fingers pressing to his back. “Yes, baby, yes.”

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ back until they were flushed together. It was mesmerizing, being close to him like this. Sirius drew in an unsteady breath at the heat, at Remus’ heels pressing against his ass. He watched Remus’ face as he pulled out until the tip caught, watched his eyes open and find his, amber in the dim light. He pushed back in, just as Remus pressed a hand to his cheek, thumb tracing over his bottom lip. Sirius closed his eyes, leaning into his palm.

“So good,” Remus breathed, his fingers sliding back into Sirius’ hair to pull him down for a kiss. His breathing hitched as Sirius pulled out and pushed in again. “So good…”

They were breathing each other’s air, the sweat shining Remus’ skin catching the light and drawing Sirius down to kiss it, tasting the salt on his throat and shoulders. He kissed his shoulder again and again, and Remus held him closer as he brought their hips together again and again.

“Re, you’re so—you feel—”

“Come here,” Remus said.

“I’m right here.”

Remus smiled, arching his back as Sirius snapped his hips forward again. “No, come here.”

Sirius didn’t have time to figure out what he meant when Remus was rolling them over. Sirius found himself on his back, laughing as Remus smiled down at him, pressing kiss after kiss to his mouth.

“C’est une…what,” Sirius panted. “Une cowgirl?”

Remus laughed, lacing their fingers together and pressing their hands over Sirius’ head. “I like to see you.”

Sirius groaned as Remus rocked down on him. He tightened his fingers around Remus’. “Fuck, Loops.”

Remus’s cock drooled onto Sirius’ stomach and Sirius felt his own pulse at the sight. Remus sat back, thighs tight around Sirius’, and ground down, hands slipping to press against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius felt his orgasm building as he looked at Remus’, how his eyes were closed, how it was Sirius who was making him feel this way. “I’m not going to last.” Sirius gripped Remus’ hips.

Remus leaned down to kiss him again, fucking back on Sirius in slow, hard thrusts. It pulled sounds out of Sirius before he could stop them, and he wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulder. The pressure trapped Remus’ cock between them, making Remus’ hips stutter.

“Sirius,” Remus’ hips stilled as he panted. Remus clung to him, forehead against Sirius’ temple. Everything was momentarily still, breathing each other’s air, soaking in each other’s presence.

“I have you,” Sirius pressed their mouths together and eased Remus on his back again. Remus looked gorgeous, turned on and needy, in Sirius’ arms. His hair was sweaty against his temples, eyes hazy and hooded, but happy. Sirius pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him, feeling like he couldn’t help it. “Je t’ai, je t’aime.”

Remus moaned, and locked his ankles around Sirius’ back, holding onto his shoulders from under his arms. “So good, baby, you’re so good—”

Sirius fucked his hips forward slowly, the same as Remus had been doing, and felt high on it, felt Remus tight and hot around him.

“I’m—I need to—”

Sirius groaned, pushing into Remus faster. They were panting into each other’s mouths in what would have been a kiss if they weren’t breathing so hard. Sirius felt his orgasm building again, cock hard and heavy inside Remus.

Remus got loud as Sirius sped up, breath punching out of him. He moaned Sirius’ name, heels digging into Sirius’ ass so that his cock rubbed between them.

“Sirius—Sirius—” Remus clung to him as he began to come.

Sirius fucked him through it, Remus’ mouth open as his cock pulsed between them, splashing hot against his chest. Sirius’ lips were against his jaw as he pressed in one more time and stayed there.

“Ah—” Remus’ eyes flashed open as Sirius stayed inside of him, grinding in and barely breathing. “Yes, yes—”

Sirius felt himself start to come before he could say, gasping and pressing closer to Remus. “Re…” Sirius couldn’t describe it, the heat on heat as his cock pulsed itself inside Remus.

The room quiet, the air conditioning cool against their sweaty skin. Remus took a breath in and then he was kissing Sirius again, slowly. Sirius’ kisses felt messy as he came down, and he let himself just be kissed. Remus turned them on their sides, leg still against Sirius’ hip, and they both sighed as Sirius, too sensitive now and soft, slipped out of him.

“Love you,” Remus whispered, then laughed quietly. “Fuck, that was amazing. Oh my god,” he mumbled the next words into their kiss.

Sirius smiled, breathing hard, and let his eyes slip closed as Remus kissed down his neck. “Are you going to let me take you out to dinner now?”

“Depends,” Remus laughed. “Can I reach across the table and wipe pizza grease off your lip as much as I want?”

That made Sirius laugh loudly, and he felt Remus’ own laugh against his chest.

“As long as I…” Sirius reached for Remus’ hand and their palms slotted together. He watched their fingers lace. “Can hold your hand.”

Remus sighed against him. “I think that sounds like a deal.”

Gryffindor was still freezing, but Remus was warm. Sirius drove them to Sid’s with one hand on his thigh, and, although out of sight, it didn’t matter who saw.

“You’re going to get pineapple pizza again?”

Remus laughed. “You remember?”

“I remember.”

“Yes,” Remus said, and patted his hand. “And you’re trying some this time.”

“I’ll try anything.”

“Wow, that’s such a lie.”

“Non,” Sirius squeezed his knee. “I will.”

“You’re too superstitious,” Remus laughed.

Sirius nodded grudgingly and Remus leaned over the center consul and pressed a kiss to his neck, just below where his hair curled.

“Were you?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing over at him from the road. “Superstitious, I mean.”

The question was one Remus had carefully not thought about for a long time, but he slot his fingers in-between Sirius’ and let himself remember.

“Very,” Remus said after a moment. “Almost to your level, so I really shouldn’t make fun of you…” he laughed, and then sighed. “But…it didn’t get me anywhere, you know? I can eat the same thing and do the same thing but…I’m as healed as I am today because of hard work.”

Sirius brought their hands up and kissed the back of Remus’ as they pulled into Sid’s parking lot and put the car into park.

But,” Remus smiled over at him. “I did luck out meeting you. And the boys. And with my life.” He reached over and cupped Sirius’ cheek, because he could, and kissed him. “And you.”

“So, luck does matter,” Sirius grinned. “Luck and hard work and you.”

“I suppose. Now come eat some lucky pineapple pizza with me.”

Sirius laughed as they got out. “Yes, sir.”

“Hi,” the host said. “Welcome to—oh my god.”

Sirius sent him a smile, his arm tight around Remus’ waist. Remus could tell he was nervous.

“Hi,” Remus said. “We were hoping we could get a table for two?”

The boy stared at them, eyes wide, and then nodded slowly. “I…yes. Yes, of course.”

As he lead them to their table and set their menus down, Remus could tell he was dying to say something. He managed to hold out until he was pouring them some ice water when—

“I really won’t make this a big deal, like, seriously, I won’t, but—I just—you guys are amazing. I’m like—Sirius Black: He’s gay, he’s incredible, he’s dating the hot guy who’s always on the bench.”

Sirius laughed and Remus felt his face heat.

“It’s really incredible, what you’ve done for our community,” the boy said. His name tag said Nate.

“Oh, no, we didn’t…” Sirius began, then looked at Remus. “I mean, we didn’t really do anything.”

“Yes, you well freaking did,” Nate said, setting their silverware down and looking at Sirius straight in the eye. “You didn’t deny it. You’re accepting it now. You renounced the hate. Have a fan-fucking-tastic meal, your pizza and drinks are on me.”

Remus gazed after him, mouth open and beginning to smile, then turned back to Sirius. Sirius looked back at him, and both of them just stared at each other. Sirius looked after Nate again and let out a laugh.

“That was…really nice.”

“Yeah,” Remus laughed, too. “Really nice.”

“I never…” Sirius looked down, pulling his water glass forward. “I guess I never thought about it like that. Being part of a community. Like a team?”

“I don’t know if I have either, actually,” Remus said, and then held his hand out across the table, palm up. “But I like it.”

Sirius smiled. “See? You are on the team.” He took Remus’ hand and squeezed gently. "I like being on the same team as you.”

Remus laughed. “Me too, baby.”

After they ordered, Sirius seemed fidgety.

“No, I’m good,” Sirius said when Remus asked. “I just can tell people are recognizing me.”

Remus glanced around. It was true. He could see people leaning across tables, a few phones held sneakily up above plates.

“Come here,” Remus said. “Scoot your chair around so your back is to the room next to me.”

Sirius looked behind him once before scooting his chair over, tugging his silverware and menu with him. He smiled sweetly as he scooched in, and then it felt more like it was just them. A brick wall had been behind Sirius and blocked most of the tables, and their bodies blocked the rest.

“I guess I didn’t really think this through,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I just…I wanted to be out with you.”

Remus smiled and took Sirius’ hand again. “I think with Nate working the floor, we’re pretty good here.”

“Oh, so you can just kiss me, then.”

Remus laughed and leaned forward, giving him a soft kiss. “I think I can.”

“One pineapple ham pizza for the lovebirds who are giving me life,” Nate said, setting it down. “And one pepperoni. You guys enjoy and let me know if you need anything else. Do you want a fudge sundae? I’m going to bring you a fudge sundae.”

Nate gave the back of Sirius’ chair a little tap as he walked away to take another table’s order.

“That is so not in my diet plan, but I deserve a fucking sundae.”

“Yes, you do,” Remus said, and picked up a piece of the pineapple pizza. “And now do your duty.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the pizza, but then slowly opened his mouth. Remus felt a little flushed as he folded the pizza a little so he could hold it out towards Sirius.

Sirius chewed slowly, expression entirely unreadable, and then swallowed.

“That was so gross.”

“It’s not,” Remus said, and then took the next bite. “Your tastebuds are broken.”

Sirius just pointedly picked up a piece of pepperoni.

“Jeez, that’s the biggest bite I’ve ever seen,” Remus said.

“Jeez.”

Remus shoved him and Sirius smiled.

“Love you,” he said.

Remus reached out and swiped his thumb over his bottom lip. “Love you.”

Remus woke up the next morning to kisses being pressed to his neck. He turned slowly in Sirius’ arms and pressed his nose again his bare chest.

“No alarms,” Sirius whispered, stroking a hand through Remus’ hair. “No practice, no media…”

“Your brother,” Remus mumbled.

Sirius laughed. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

Remus wrapped his leg around Sirius’ hip. “We’ll go this afternoon, we should make sure he’s okay.”

“I love you.”

Remus hummed sleepily and pressed a kissed to Sirius’ neck, and then he was asleep again, too content for anything else.

Sirius just held them together under the covers he remembered half throwing off last night, hot from pulling another orgasm from Remus after dinner. They would both need a shower, but now the sweat had long cooled and Sirius tucked them back in again, lulled to sleep by Remus’ breathing.

“Baby,” Remus said from near the toaster, and Sirius looked up from his coffee.

He smiled. “Yes?”

“Will you call my family with me?”

Sirius’ eyes widened in surprise. “You mean you haven’t…”

Remus, looking guilty, shook his head. “Not really. I…I thought I might lose you, and I didn’t want to…if I was going to come out to them, I wanted to know where I’d be. I didn’t want to be in limbo, I guess. I’ve been sure of myself for a really long time. I wanted to take the time to feel that way again, with or without you. And…” Remus smiled, glowing. “Yeah, here we are.”

Sirius kicked at the stool beside him, grinning. “Jules, too?”

Remus laughed. “My mom said he’s going crazy. I know that much.”

Remus picked up his phone and pulled up his mom’s contact, hitting the button for FaceTime.

Julian’s face filled up the entire screen, more nose and great, hazel eyes than anything else, shouting into the speakers. “Remus, Remus, Remus…”

“Hi, Jules,” Remus laughed.

“It’s been so long forever,” Julian said. “Remus, I saw—”

“Remus, sweetheart?” his mother’s voice came, and the phone was promptly pushed backwards to reveal Hope and Lyall, too. They looked out of breath, as if they had run at the sound of Julian chanting his brother’s name.

“Hi, guys.”

“Oh, hi, baby, hi,” Hope pressed her hand to her neck, grinning. “Oh, it’s so good to see your face.”

“We’re very happy you called,” Lyall said. “Very, very happy, Re.”

“Me, too. I’m sorry it took so long, I just…” Remus said, and was suddenly nervous in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He cleared his throat. “Hey, I’ve got someone here with me, too.”

Remus glanced at Sirius who bit his lip as he leaned into frame with an awkward wave. “Hi—”

“Sirius,” Julian shrieked. “Sirius, you were kissing my brother.”

Remus’ heart skipped. He couldn’t tell. Julian’s face was pure awe, but that didn’t mean it was good or bad.

“Oh, Julian, that’s very rude,” Hope scolded. “We don’t know what you’re talking about, that is not something we know about, but I’m sure your brother has something he would like to tell us that’s very exciting news, and that he should have been able to tell us himself.”

Remus loved his mother more than anything. She managed to sound pissed about the pictures and elated for Remus at the same time. She was kind, loving, giving Remus as much of a chance to tell them himself as she could.

“Sorry, mama,” Julian said, but then broke into a grin that changed Remus’ entire world.

“Sirius can you be Remus’ boyfriend? Please?”

“Jules,” his mother said.

Remus felt tears stick in his throat.

“Sirius, it’s very good to see you again,” Lyall said, patting Julian’s head, as if he saw Sirius Black sitting in his son’s apartment every day.

“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Lupin,” Sirius laughed, and Remus felt him glance at him. He reached out and took Sirius’ hand, lacing them on his thigh. It was out of frame, but Remus swore his mother caught it.

“So, this is… not exactly what I had planned,” Remus began. “But—”

“You’re in love with Sirius Black,” Julian burst out, and then clapped his hands over his mouth, looking at his mother.

“Julian Lupin.”

Remus shook his head. “It’s okay, mom.” He looked at Sirius, hair still mussed from sleep, tapping one finger against Remus’ knuckles. “Jules’ is right.”

Sirius’ eyes flickered over his face, smile growing slowly, then back at the camera. “And I’m in love with Remus Lupin, Jules, don’t forget that part.”

“Oh my god,” Julian was practically smushing his own cheeks. “Everyone at school was like, so crazy. Asking me questions. I’m famous. And some people were mean, and I was like, I don’t like you anymore. And mom said it was rude to talk about so I stopped because Remus hadn’t talked to us yet. But now do I get to say it?”

Remus looked at Sirius, who shrugged.

“It’s all I want to talk about to my friends, too,” he said, and Remus laughed.

“We’re so happy for you both,” Lyall said. “And Remus, I…”

Remus watched his father swallow over emotion.

“I’m very proud of you. Your mother and me both. Hell, I’m proud of both of you,” his father laughed wetly, waving his hands like he couldn’t believe he was crying. “That All-Star game, for fuck’s sake, it couldn’t have been easy.”

“Dad,” Julian said.

“Bad word, I know, I know, sorry, J.”

“It wasn’t,” Sirius said. “But it was worth it for where I am now.”

“C’est bien,” Lyall sent a thumbs up, and Sirius laughed.

“Oui, monsieur.”

“Sirius, I hope we will be seeing you soon, sweetheart,” Remus’ mother said. “I wish we could get off for Remus’ birthday but we’ll just have to celebrate at the,” she dropped her voice, “playoffs.”

Sirius, Julian, and Remus’ parents knocked on wood. Remus was going to cry. He rolled his eyes when Sirius took his knuckles for him and knocked on the seat of his chair.

“I hope Remus’ little apartment can fit all of us. That is, of course, if he’s still living there.”

Remus burst out laughing, covering his eyes with his hand. “Mom.”

Sirius laughed, too, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist, more obviously this time. “I’m sure at my house we’ll all be very comfortable.”

Remus looked at him. They hadn’t talked about it, but the idea of driving to the rink every morning and home every night with Sirius, of making meals together, relaxing on the weekends…

“I’m sure we will,” Remus said softly, and very nearly kissed Sirius right there in front of his family. Which was definitely something he could do now, he realized.

“Well, we’ll let you go,” Remus’ mother said—knowing, as usual. “Call us soon, okay?”

“Please,” Julian said.

“I will, Jules,” Remus said. “Promise.”

The screen went blank just as Julian’s frame started to blur as he jumped around the living room. Remus sat for a moment, put his phone down flat on the counter slowly, and let out a long breath.

“Jeez,” Remus said. “Fuck.”

Sirius hauled Remus into his lap and Remus let all of his happiness and relief spill out between them. He laughed, maybe half cried, as they kissed, and it made Sirius’ eyes become bright, too. He rubbed his hands up and down Remus’ back, palms familiar and warm.

“C’est bien,” Sirius’ voice was raspy.

Remus nodded, laughing again and pressing kisses along Sirius’ cheek. “Yes, yes, yes.”

They entered Sirius’ kitchen quietly, Remus carrying an overnight bag—just in case.

“He used to be able to sleep for literal hours into the day,” Sirius had said in the car. “He could be asleep still.”

“We have time,” Remus said, and pulled Sirius’ hand into his. “I have an idea.”

“What?”

Remus kissed him, and then hiked his bag further up his shoulder and pulled him in the direction of the basement. “Come on.”

Sirius flicked the lights on, but even before that, the artificial ice seemed to glow in the dark of Sirius’ basement.

Remus sat down in one of the rink side leather chairs and unzipped his bag.

“When did you sneak those in there?” Sirius laughed as Remus pulled one of his skates out.

“When you were making coffee,” Remus smiled and took his shoes off. “Come on, get busy, Captain.”

They laced their skates beside each other, something that sent a strange mixture of emotions through Remus. He could remember what it felt like to do this every morning beside teammates. Then, he had watched the Lions doing it over and over. It had taken him a while to even think about putting skates on again. And now, here he was, without the secret that had kept him away, and about to skate with Sirius. His Sirius.

“I only keep my sticks here,” Sirius said as he took a few from the rack. “So, you’ll have to do with a little flexibility.”

Remus laughed and took it, along with the spare pair of gloves. “I think I can manage.”

The ice felt different, but it certainly did the trick and they glided around each other for a few moments, passing a puck back and forth in light strokes. The feeling sent a breath wavering out of Remus. The familiar magnetism of hockey, of Sirius. Remus held the puck back on Sirius’ next pass, and skated backwards a few strides, looking at him.

Sirius’ face lit up. “Oh yeah?” he pushed forward once, twice, shoulders shifting in the way they did on the ice, showing his full hight. He was a looming obstacle between Remus and the net, and Remus felt his heart jump.

He clicked the puck back and forth on his blade a few times.

“Yeah,” he said, and the took off.

Remus got right up to Sirius’ waiting stick and then twisted, spinning outward around him only to be cut off as he did, Sirius stealing the puck from between his legs.

“Oops,” Sirius laughed and took off towards the other end.

Remus grinned and stayed tight on his heels. It took a minute, but he managed to nudge Sirius enough into the side of the rink to grab the puck again. Sirius reached after it.

“Slash, slash!” Remus called. “That’s a fucking penalty.”

“I didn’t!” Sirius dug his blades in and skirted around the goal to get in Remus’ path. Remus laughed, but pulled up short, making Sirius have to stop hard, and right in front of him. He was breathing hard, eyes bright and pale.

“There’s no way I’m taking a shot with an unpadded Sirius Black standing right there,” Remus panted. “I’d get fired immediately. But you should know that it would have gone in.”

Sirius grinned, leaning on his stick with his gloves resting on top of it. He rested his chin on his gloves. “I know it would have.”

Remus knocked the puck so that it bounced against his skate. “Wanna run drills?”

Sirius groaned. “Of course you would like doing drills.”

“I love drills.”

Sirius let his stick clatter to the ground and pressed his gloves to either side of Remus’ face. “I love you,” he said before kissing him soundly.

Remus’ stick followed, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist and kissing him back, right there in front of the goal. It felt almost like being on center ice, kissing in Hogwarts stadium.

“I love you on skates,” Sirius mumbled. “You’re so fucking beautiful on skates.”

Remus made a face and Sirius kissed it away. Remus let him for a moment before pulling back with a laugh.

“I think we should go make some lunch. Maybe Regulus will be awake and just not know we’re here.”

“You mean you want to make my baby brother lunch?”

“Maybe I just want to have lunch with the Black brothers.”

“Yeah,” called a voice from up the stairs, making both Sirius and Remus jump. “This is cute, but I’m starving.”

Sirius laughed and Remus hid his face in Sirius’ neck. “Okay, Reg, we’re coming.”

They unlaced quickly and walked upstairs in their socks, Sirius in the lead. As they reached the light of Sirius’ main floor, Remus was suddenly nervous. All he knew about Regulus was that he was a younger version of Sirius, but with none of the support system. He had been seeped in the Snakes, and who knows what had happened after Sirius left home. On camera, the only way Remus had seen him, he was closely watched and fiery with deflection. Remus, frankly, didn’t know what to expect.

They walked into the kitchen to find Regulus sitting there in sweatpants and a ratty Snakes t-shirt. He watched them enter with familiar eyes, but an unfamiliar amused expression. He seemed a little lighter than the boy Remus had seen on TV.

“Hi Regulus,” Remus said. “I’m Remus. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard great things.”

Sirius rolled his eyes as he opened the refrigerator and started taking out things for sandwiches. “Reg.”

Regulus flipped his phone around in his hands a few times before slouching against the kitchen counter. His gray eyes flicked up to Remus’ briefly. “You, too.”

“Do you like turkey sandwiches?”

“Re makes them with cranberry sauce,” Sirius added. “It’s really good.”

“Oh,” Regulus nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

The kitchen lapsed into silence then as Regulus watched Sirius and Remus assemble sandwiches and talk softly together. After a few minutes, he laughed.

“What?” Sirius said as he spread mustard on a toasted piece of bread.

“Nothing,” Regulus said after a moment. “It’s just…well, one, I’ve never seen you in a kitchen.”

Remus snorted. “Me neither.”

“And two…” Regulus hesitated again. “I don’t know, you just…” he glanced at Remus. “Have a life here.”

Remus watched Sirius’ head jerked up. “What?”

“Not like,” Regulus shrugged. “I just mean it’s different.”

“I…” Sirius swallowed. “Yeah, I…”

“It’s because of you.”

Remus looked up when he realized Regulus was talking to him. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Sirius cut in. “But it’s also because I’ve been talking to someone.”

“You can say the word therapist in front of me.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I couldn’t.”

Regulus went quiet again and looked down at the sandwich Sirius slid over to him. “I know.”

“Hey,” Remus looked at Sirius. “I can go.”

“No,” Regulus said. “Sorry. Thanks for the sandwich.”

“Reg, you don’t have to apologize for thinking this all is…insane. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Regulus looked at his brother. “Like that. That’s new.”

Remus looked between them, at Sirius taking a steady breath.

Sirius nodded. “I know. It’s…it’s new for me, too. All we used to do is apologize, non?”

Regulus took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. He looked at Remus. “Is it true what Fenrir said? About you?”

Remus blinked.

“I overheard,” Regulus said. “People tend to overlook me when Sirius is around.” He smiled, but it was small. “I don’t think anyone else caught it, if you’re worried.”

“Yes,” Remus said softly. “It’s true.”

Regulus nodded. “I guess it’s not just my team that’s got bastards, then.”

Remus shook his head. “Guess not.”

Regulus looked at Sirius. “But your team seems to be bastard free.”

It was Sirius’ turn to smile a small smile. “Guess so.”

Regulus took another bite, swallowed, and looked determinedly between them.

“How do I get on it?”

On the first day back, Minnie was waiting for them in the Hogwarts lobby, phone in her hand until she seemed to sense them and looked up. Regulus was gazing around the room, at how his brother bumped fists with the security guards.

“Sirius,” she said. “Regulus. Mr. Lupin.”

“Just Remus.”

She smiled. “Of course. How are we all?”

“Good,” Sirius said quickly, and then beamed at Remus. Remus was going to melt.

Minnie looked at Regulus. “And you? Any regrets, better tell me now.”

“No regrets,” Regulus said. “Except staying so long.”

“Alright, then,” Minnie said. “Let’s go have a chat. You two, see you later.”

Regulus gave a little salute and followed Minnie towards the elevators. Remus looked at Sirius waving back, and then took two steps away before Sirius stopped, making Remus stop, too.

“Fuck, just…” Sirius touched Remus’ hand. “Just a second. Reg!”

Regulus turned, eyebrow arched. He was so similar to Sirius, and so different. Remus couldn’t imagine anyone making this kid do anything he didn’t want to.

“Are you…veux-tu que je vienne avec toi?”

Do you want me to come with you? Remus translated.

A funny look crossed Regulus’ face, and he just looked at his brother. He looked small in the vast lobby.

“It’s okay,” Regulus said finally. “I’ll tell you about it after. I promise.”

Sirius hesitated, but nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, I…”

“It’s okay,” Regulus repeated softly. “I’ve got Minnie.”

Minnie’s face softened at that, more so than Remus had seen it yet.

“Go to practice,” Regulus nodded, walked backwards to catch up with Minnie. “See you after.”

Sirius only turned around after they disappeared into the elevator, heading up into the office space above the rink. Remus took his hand, half relishing in the fact that he could, and half focused on comforting.

“He’ll be okay. You’re a good brother.”

Sirius sighed. “I know. I just…I don’t know what he went through. It’s strange thinking Minnie will know before I will.”

“Well…” Remus took a breath. “It might be easier for him to tell her than you. Like it’s easier for you to tell Heather stuff than me sometimes, right? It was easier for me to tell the therapist I saw about my shoulder than to tell the team. It’s like a step? You know?”

Sirius’ smile was slow, and he unlaced their hands just to wrap one arm around Remus’ shoulder. “I love you and your smart as hell.”

Remus laughed as Sirius swiped them through the player’s door. “I know.”

They could hear the locker room as they approached, the music blasting. Like it was just another day.

Sirius leant down for a kiss right in the hallway outside the locker room, before Remus had to split off towards his office.

“I guess I’ll meet you in there,” Remus said, a palm on Sirius’ chest.

“Guess so,” Sirius said. “Get ready for chaos.”

Sirius smiled—probably a little ridiculously—and watched Remus go, looking over his shoulder once before he walked into his office.

The world was new.

“Me and my fucking girlfriend jokes, eh?”

Sirius jumped and turned to see James walking towards him from the other end of the hall. He had his familiar green Northface jacket zipped up and a black Lions beanie pulled down over his ears against the cold, having just arrived.

Sirius’ heart pulled, remembering James standing outside his door for hours the night they returned from Florida, probably freezing and knocking, knocking, knocking—

“James…” Sirius began. “I’m—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” James said, and took two more strides to pull Sirius into a hard hug.

Sirius blinked over his shoulder for a moment, feeling James’ weight against him, and then wrapped his arms tightly around his back.

“I’m sorry I did that to you,” James said softly in Sirius’ ear. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to play along, fuck, I feel so horrible.”

“No,” Sirius said, surprised. He clutched James to him. “No, Pots, you didn’t—”

“Still,” James pulled away, his hazel eyes brimmed. “I’m—You’re my best friend. No matter what. I’m fucking happy as hell for you and Loops, Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so happy.”

Sirius let out a laugh, but they were both sort of crying.

“I should have let you in that night.”

James laughed too, wiping his eyes beneath his glasses. “My knuckles fucking hurt, man.”

They were hugging again when the locker room door opened and they heard a gasp.

“What the hell?” Thomas’ voice said. “This is not suppose to be happening in the hallway, we want to be part of the love, come on inside!”

Sirius groaned and wiped his sweatshirt sleeve over his eyes before Thomas pulled him under his arm. He was half-dressed in his hockey shorts and warm against Sirius’ side.

“Captain, you scored one beauty of a man, okay? Like, damn, Lupin? Damn.” He stopped, releasing Sirius and turned more serious—at least for himself. “I’m psyched for you guys. After everything that happened…if you need anything, okay? Me. I’m here.”

“Thanks, Talkie,” Sirius said. “Means a lot.”

“In bigger news,” Thomas said, and ran over to slap Logan’s ass. “I’m dating your sister Tremz.”

Thomas let out a long whoop, both fists in the air. Logan stared at him.

“Quoi?”

Finn cracked up and Logan slugged him in the arm. Finn pulled him in for a kiss.

“Ooh,” Thomas said. “So much love. I gotta play some love music, what’re we feeling, boys?”

A hand on Sirius’ arm distracted him from the scene as he was about to turn towards his stall, and he looked up to find Kuny standing there.

“Hey, Kuny,” Sirius said, a little unnerved by his expression. It was—almost nervous.

Evgeni pressed his hands around one of Sirius’. “Cap.”

Sirius glanced at Sergei, who was standing a little bit behind him, but clearly watching them.

“I…This is hard thing for me. Hard thing, and hard for me to say,” he glanced at Sergei, who nodded encouragingly.

“It’s okay, Zhenya,” Sergei said, using Evgeni’s Russian nickname.

Evgeni took a breath, and looked back at Sirius. “I’m want support you. I’m want. I just—can’t say to reporters sometimes.” Evgeni swallowed hard, looking pained. “Can’t support if I’m want to go home, see parents ever again, see family, play for Olympics. So sorry, Cap. Not mean anything. Best Captain. Best friend. Love Loops, too. Cap, I’m sorry, so sorry—”

“Kun,” Sirius shook his head, clapping his hand over both of Evgeni’s. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I understand, okay? Really. If anyone can understand wanting one thing and having to do another, it’s me. Don’t be sorry. I know you.” He gave his hands a squeeze, then pressed them to his broad shoulders, giving him a shake. "I know you, alright?”

“Nado say you understand,” Evgeni said with a sigh. He smiled. “Sergei, too. I’m still…is hard. Have to be careful. Stupid thing, to have to hide. Hope I’m can support soon. Glad you’re…open? Not right word? You know, glad you’re open now. Open for pass.”

Sergei chuckled from beside him. “He means free.”

Sirius laughed, too. “Me too, Kunz.”

Sirius dropped his bag in his stall and managed to shuck off his sweatshirt before a shadow fell over him and he looked up to meet Pascal’s eyes.

“I hear your little brother is in town,” Pascal said, arms crossed over his bare chest. “That is very interesting.”

“Lots of life’s been interesting lately,” Sirius huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s…we’re figuring it out.”

“Lots of life is being figured out lately, too.”

“Oui,” Sirius said. “Dumo, listen—”

“No, you listen,” Pascal said. “I believe I will have a free basement soon,” Pascal glanced at Logan, who was watching something on Leo’s phone. “Just an offer.”

Sirius felt a familiar warm feeling in his chest that seemed to always come with Dumo. “You sure you want another Black brother in your house? We don’t do laundry, remember. Or cook.”

Pascal laughed, too, but pressed a palm to Sirius’ cheek. “I will always want you in my house. I feel the same about your brother. I am sure of it. Plus, you babysit, non?”

“Dumo…”

“Don’t cry,” Pascal said firmly, and pulled Sirius into a hug. “I will cry.”

Sirius laughed, throat tight for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Pascal gave him a few slaps on the back and pulled back with a kiss to his cheek. “Allez, mon fils. We have practice. Oh, good, there is the man of the hour.”

Remus walked into the locker room with Moody laughing, only to be tackled by Thomas a moment later.

“Loops, listen to my love playlist,” Sirius faintly heard him say.

“I thought I was the man of the hour,” Sirius said.

Pascal laughed. “You are always the man of the hour, give the rest of us a chance.”

Finn sauntered up to Remus, pushing his phone at him. “Your cute ass Sid’s date is all over instagram. You’re like America’s new power couple.”

Sirius watched Remus laugh and roll his eyes. “Well, I think that’s an improvement from the last time we were splashed across social media.”

“True.”

“Okay,” Coach called as he walked into the locker room, looking around at them all. “I don’t know how many couples are in this room anymore, but if any of you bring disagreements or drama onto the ice, you’re benched.” He walked over to the whiteboard and uncapped a marker. “That’s all I have to say about that, the rest is your business.” Coach gave a thumbs up, a little smile sneaking onto his face, and then flicked on the projector. “So. Let’s take a look at what we’ll be up against in Vegas tomorrow.”

Vegas was a million worlds crammed into one place, but Remus only cared about one. That world was Sirius, kissing him while they waited for the plane to reach its gate. Holding his hand while they shuffled sleepily onto the bus. Following him to his room once they got to the hotel, some of the other boys waving goodnight to them without a moment’s thought.

“I have to set my alarm early,” Remus said once they were getting ready for bed. “Are you sure you don’t want your own room? I know morning skate is optional tomorrow. You could sleep in.”

Sirius scoffed, tugging his clothes off haphazardly, then walking back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and rinse—butt naked.

Remus really loved this new world.

“I am never sleeping alone again,” Sirius poked his head back out, the edges of his hair damp from the sink. “Unless you want to.”

Remus shook his head, and Sirius grinned. He walked back over to his suitcase and retrieved his pajama bottoms, tugging them on and then flopping down onto the bed on his stomach. Remus laughed and knelt on the bed beside him, throwing a leg over his hips.

“Want a massage?”

Sirius groaned happily. “Are you kidding? Yes.”

“Perks of dating your PT, I guess,” Remus said as he began to knead the muscles of Sirius’ shoulders. He ran his hands appreciatively over the vast expanse of Sirius’ back. “Or maybe for me, perks of dating a professional hockey player.”

Sirius just groaned into his folded arms.

“Anywhere particular?” Remus said.

“No, just you,” Sirius sighed.

Remus looked at the way his eyelashes were fanned out over his cheek, dark and thick, and leaned down to press a kiss between his the strong bunch of muscle where his shoulders met his spine. He felt Sirius’s back rise as he breathed in steadily, and then fall. It was rhythmic, and Remus pressed another kiss along his spine, and then another. He worked out the tenser muscles in Sirius’ shoulders and then moved down to his lower back, just above the swell of his ass.

Remus noticed Sirius’ hips beginning to minutely rock down against the bed just moments before Sirius reached back silently and pulled away his pajama bottoms until they were framing his ass, no doubt freeing his cock, too. He gasped, cheek against his forearm and eyes closed.

“Fuck baby…” Remus said softly, cock filling at the sight. He ran his hands over the meat of Sirius’ ass, bare now. Sirius’ lips parted and Remus leaned forward to kiss his neck and cheek, sloppily reaching his panting mouth. “Fuck, do you want to? You have a game tomorrow…”

“I want to,” Sirius opened his eyes, pupils blown. “I want to, we’ll go slow.”

Remus pressed his clothed, slowly filling cock against Sirius’ ass and Sirius moaned. “Yeah, please.”

Remus reached for his toiletries, still thankfully sitting beside them on the bed from unpacking, for the lube. He backed up, spreading Sirius’ thighs until Sirius got his knees under him and Remus could sit between them. He tugged Sirius’ pajama bottoms away, ruined and wet from his dripping cock.

“Jesus, you’re gonna ruin the fucking bedsheets, look at you,” Remus groaned and swiped a dry thumb over Sirius’ entrance before uncapping the lube. His own cock was tenting his underwear, the head pushing up against the elastic waistband. He gave himself a quick squeeze before focusing back on Sirius, slipping a finger inside of him.

He opened up Sirius slowly until Sirius was moaning with it, muffled by a pillow, and Remus had to pull his cock out, eyes closing with how turned on he was. He was hot in his own hand, and the tip pressed in easily, rendering Sirius silent.

“Re, Re, Re…” Sirius panted as Remus pushed inside of him. “Huh, fuck…”

“Shh, baby,” Remus grinned and smoothed his hands over Sirius’ hips before pulling back out. When he fucked in, he curled around Sirius as much as he could, eyes shut and breathing him in. “Nice and slow, right?”

Remus fucked Sirius like that, holding him close, telling him he loved him over and over until Sirius cried out and came with Remus’ fist around him. Remus kept his thrusts slow, fucking him through it, agonizing in Sirius’ walls pulsing around him, dragging against him. Remus let his mouth drop open, tasting Sirius’ sweaty skin as he finally came, orgasm rippling through him for a long time. Sirius was pliant beneath him, breathing hard. Remus stroked his cock, drawing shivers from him, until they collapsed together.

Sirius let out a breathless laugh when they finally stilled. “I think we forgot to be quiet.”

Remus smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder between breaths. His heart was pounding in the best way. “Oops.”

Sirius let out another noise as Remus pulled out carefully and cleaned them up.

“Well, now I’m tired,” Remus sighed as Sirius flicked off the light and pulled Remus against his chest.

Sirius hummed, yanking the tightly-made bed out of its tuck, and over them.

“Re,” Sirius said into the dark after a few moments.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow? I know you’re okay every other time, but…”

“But this feels different,” Remus finished, adjusting closer to Sirius. “I’ll be okay, though. He doesn’t have anything on me anymore.”

“Do you want to tell people? About him?”

Remus took a slow breath and felt Sirius’ hand press against his back. “I don’t know yet. I don’t think so. I don’t think I… I don’t think I want him mingled into this moment. Maybe one day but… I can’t prove anything, you know? And I don’t need to. I’m happier than he is, aren’t I?”

Sirius laughed softly. “Yeah, you are.”

“We’ll be okay,” Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’ jaw.

The Vegas visitor’s locker room was buzzing with more nervous tension than usual. Coach was standing around a computer with some of the coaching staff, glasses low on his nose and nodding. The boys were in various state of dress, milling around and going through their routine. Kasey and Leo were bouncing tennis balls to each other off of a wall, Kuny was lying on the ground with his legs scissoring in the air. Sirius and James were in their stalls, talking hurriedly as usual, Sirius drawing a play out on his palm. Finn was standing near the coaches, looking at what they were watching via the projector with his bare arms crossed. Logan had his headphones on and his eyes closed.

“Alright boys,” Coach said, swiping his glasses off of his face and folding them into his shirt pocket. “Getting down to the wire here, okay? Closer and closer to that goal. We’ve been over this tape one hundred times, you know what to look for. I want you all to remember how much this means to you.”

Remus looked around the room. The team had stilled to listen. Some were nodding.

“How hard you’ve worked, what you’ve been through. Let’s not give it up now.”

There was the thumping of stalls.

“Okay?” Coach said. “I thought we could do a little something extra tonight, too. If you don’t want to, okay, but me and Alice talked and I would like to put up as an option that you use some Pride stick tape for this game. We have many people to show our support for tonight. Some who are in this room, and countless who aren’t,” He glanced around the room, and then at Remus. “Well, boys?”

“Hand it over Coach,” Pascal said, flicking his fingers. “Come on.”

“Bitch ass,” Finn nodded. “Dumo, pass me some.”

Remus laughed, and watched a few rolls slowly make their way around the locker room.

“Hello,” Thomas called as he wrapped long pieces around his socks instead of the usual clear sock tape. “Look at me, we’re hype.”

Remus grinned. “Nice one, Talkie.”

He found Sirius next, who was sitting very intently in his stall, meticulously and carefully wrapping the multicolored tape around his blade. He ripped it with his teeth, and then paused to type out a message on his phone.

“Hi,” Remus said, leaning against the side of his stall. “Nice stick.”

Sirius laughed. “Thanks.” He held up his phone. “Just checking on Regulus,” he said, and then tucked his phone behind him. “He’s skating. We’ll talk with Minnie when we get home, see what our plan is.”

“Sounds good to me,” Remus said.

Sirius stood and kissed him with a smile before pulling away to tug his pads on over his head, strapping them around his ribs. Remus loved the way Sirius looked in just his pads. Like some sort of hot Iron Man.

“Tell me if you need anything tonight,” Sirius said smoothing his jersey across his shoulder pads. “Okay?”

“I will,” Remus said. “Don’t worry, alright? Just win. Win for me.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “As if I could do anything else.”

“Alright boys,” Sirius said as they heard the Knights enter their home ice first. The crowd was roaring. “We win this? We’re one step closer to clinched.”

“We’re going for the you-know-what,” Finn shouted.

Thomas let out a long, very high pitched scream, and jumped at the same time Kuny did to bump chests. Remus raised his eyebrows at them, but smiled. It seemed to do the trick, and got the rest of the locker room going.

“That was easy,” Sirius whispered to Remus as he put his helmet on. As he passed into the tunnel, he pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek. “See you out there.”

Remus laughed and tapped Sirius’ butt on his way out.

Thomas was behind him. “Give me one!”

“Those are exclusive, out you go,” Remus patted his helmet instead.

Thomas proceeded to howl out through the entire tunnel walk, much to the delight of the watching Lions fans at the glass.

“Lupin,” Moody said. “I believe this team of ours is going go high places.”

“Oh yeah?”

Moody smiled a rare smile. “I can feel it. In the leg.”

“I love that leg,” Finn said, touching it softly with his glove. “And these legs,” he turned around and tapped both of Leo’s goalie pads.

“Your distracting me,” Leo said.

“I certainly hope so.”

“Jesus Christ,” Moody said. “Move it along, move it along.”

Remus followed the team through the tunnel with Moody behind him. There were swarms of cameras along the glass, and Remus even caught some of them following him instead of the players. He kept his head down, taking his spot on the bench and busying himself with checking the med kits. The crowd was roaring as the teams joined each other on the ice.

“Just your luck your first game back is so high profile, eh,” Moody grumbled. “We got your back, kid.”

“Thanks,” Remus replied, and took a breath before looking out at the ice. Blizzard was starting tonight, warming up the crease with his blades and turning from side to side on a dime. Remus found Sirius, doing his usual. He smiled at the sight before slowly looking towards the Vegas side of the ice. In his mind, he knew he was unconsciously looking for Fenrir, but what drew his eyes instead couldn’t have been more opposite.

Marc-Andre Fleury, ready and warming up in his goal, had rainbow stick tape wrapped around his large goalie blade. It flashed out against his dark jersey.

“Wow,” Leo said faintly from beside him. He was standing, helmet perched on his head as he readied himself to go out onto the ice. His blue eyes were bright. “That’s…” Remus smiled, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder pad.

“I’ve looked up to Flower forever, I…” he laughed. “Wow…”

“How are you doing, Knutty?” Remus said. “All this chaos, you were there for me but I haven’t really been there for you.”

Leo shook his head and smiled. “That’s not true. It’s really good. Really, really good. I mean,” Leo stepped onto the ice and spun around for a sip of water, leaning in on the boards. "I don’t think we’re going to be as public as you guys right now, just, well, because of the facts. The three of us are more expendable than Sirius, and after we talked to Alice, she said she wouldn’t put it passed the League to want to…”

“Be homophobic fucks.”

Leo nodded. “Exactly. But, I don’t think we mind. We’ve got our apartment, and so long as no press are around we’ve got the room. We’ve got the team. And we’ve got you and Cap. There’s hope for the future, you know?”

The words reminded Remus of the boy at Sid’s.

“You do. And, maybe without him knowing it, you’ve got Flower.”

Leo laughed, nose scrunching. “Yeah.”

“I wish all these guys were as great as Flower is,” Moody grumbled. “Exhibit A, ten o’clock.”

Remus swallowed. Fenrir was on his radar whenever they played Vegas, but he loomed like a shadow tonight. And with good reason. Sirius knew now. The team knew now.

Logan skated up to the bench and squirted some water into his mouth, eyes on Fenrir. “I’m ready to get dirty.”

“Let me get dirty with you,” James replied from Remus’ right.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Be my guest, Pots.”

Fenrir was rounding the goal time after time and slamming the pucks in with his signature slap shot. Remus had stopped flinching a long time ago, but he still blinked. He saw Sirius swoop near the center line once, twice, and silently begged him not to cross it. His expression was already murderous.

“Don’t be stupid guys,” Remus said, dragging his eyes away from Fenrir and back to Logan and James. “Really. That won’t fix anything. Just win.”

“Roger that,” James gave him a salute.

Logan stayed back a moment and raised his eyebrow. “I hope you’ve told the captain that.”

“Oh, I have,” Remus smiled a half smile. “Please, Tremz. Just win, don’t get hurt. He’s not afraid to play dirty.”

“If you get hurt,” Leo said in a quiet voice. “There are so many things that I know you like now that I won’t do to you for a month.”

Remus snorted as Logan’s mouth fell open. He caught his mouth guard between his teeth and groaned out Leo’s name around it, chewing dejectedly.

“You heard me,” Leo smiled and skated off to warm up as back up.

Logan looked at Remus. “Fine.”

“Merci,” Remus laughed.

“The Vegas lazar shows are always so fucking wild,” Finn grumbled as a knight in a golden cape and no shirt skated around brandishing a sword. “I mean what is going on?”

“It’s the golden knight,” Logan said from in front of him. “Looks like your halloween costume at OKN. What year was that? 2014?”

Finn snorted. “Oh yeah, forgot about that. You’re one to talk though, you fucking slutty Batman.”

“Hey, I looked good.”

“Please let me see slutty Batman,” Leo whispered.

“Oh, I got you, baby,” Finn leaned back to say, and then leaned forward to Logan. “And yeah, you did.”

Remus laughed as the knight finally skated off and they announced the woman singing the national anthem. The conversation made him think of Sirius, soot-streaked in his fireman costume that night. He wondered what he could have done with it. He looked up and caught Sirius’ eye who smiled, as if reading Remus’ mind. He had his necklace in his hand and, as the song finished, where he would have jumped the boards, instead he leaned towards Remus.

“For good luck?”

Remus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

Sirius grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips, then to his necklace, before disappearing over the boards.

Remus definitely heard some jeers from behind the glass, but he heard some cheering, too. Mostly, he smiled stupidly as the lights came back up and the music blasted for game time.

“Keep it together, kid,” Moody chuckled.

“I am, I am,” Remus could see his grinning face on at least one camera, could practically hear Frank and Marlene on the home broadcast freaking out over the kiss. It would be all over twitter no doubt, all over the news. But it was okay now. This was a choice.

Puck drop was Sirius versus Karlsson. Sirius won it easily, kicking forward in fast strides out into the Knight’s zone before passing it off to James. James ducked around Reaves, then Whitecloud, before Olli picked it up in a drop pass, carried it further into the zone and—

“Fucking yes,” Logan thumbed the boards. “Slash, you mother fucks.”

Remus tried to hide a smile as Whitecloud was ushered into the penalty box.

“A minute in,” Finn said as he swung over the boards for the power play. “How’s that for winning, Lupin?”

“It’s a minute in,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “Calm down.”

But Remus agreed. It did feel like they were winning. James caught two goals in the first, and the first intermission was wild with the thought of him getting a hat trick.

In the locker room, sweaty and fresh off an interview with Rita, he stroked the rainbow tape. “Might have to keep this stuff around. Feels a little lucky, eh?”

Remus laughed. “I’d like to see it.”

“Oh, we’re getting you that hat trick,” Sirius knocked James’ helmet on his head as he walked past in just his hockey pants. Remus let himself look this time. Sweat shone across his shoulders.

“I hate that rat bastard,” Kasey said calmly as he wiped down his helmet. “Might kill him. Just might.”

“Love ya, Bliz,” Leo laughed.

The second period was shot off by a tricky goal by Sirius, that got called with interference. It set off a fight, Mark Stone pulling back to aim a punch at Sirius, his elbow catching Olli squarely in the mouth.

“No,” Thomas shouted from the bench. “I don’t believe.”

“Where?” Leo said to himself from beside Remus and Remus shook his head.

“Yeah, that looked fine to me.”

Timmy was on Stone now, being pulled apart by Sirius and Olli, who had blood quickly accumulating down his chin. Remus motioned him in and reached behind him for his med kit. Olli spit before climbing back over the boards.

“How do your teeth feel?” Remus said wryly. “Feel like spitting any out?”

Olli laughed and sat. “No, just caught my lip I think.”

As the refs reviewed the goal, Remus was leaning down to prod at the cut on Olli’s mouth when a sudden slash of ice sounded from in front of him.

“Good to see you, Lupin.”

Remus jolted upright, and Olli stood, too. He came eye to eye with Fenrir, blood dripping down his chin still.

“Wrong fucking bench,” Olli said lowly.

Fenrir just laughed. It raised the hair on Remus’ neck. Fenrir across the ice was one thing. Remus could handle that. But he had never spoken to Remus before. He had never engaged in contact of any kind.

Then, Sirius was there, skating up behind him and shoving him out from in front of Remus.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Sirius all but snarled.

“Oh, come on, we’re old teammates.”

“You’re not my teammate,” Remus said evenly, heart hammering.

Sirius shoved Grayback again, only this time Grayback shoved him back, snapping Sirius’ head back when he wasn’t expecting it.

“No, I guess I’m not you cocksu—”

“Break it up, fellas,” a ref skated between them. “That’s enough, the goal is good, let’s get back to it before I have to call you for delay of game.”

Fenrir jumped the boards to his own bench, and Sirius climbed over towards Remus. Remus wanted to reach out, but he knew that would hardly do either of them any favors.

“We’ll get him for that,” Sirius said as he sat, looking up at Remus. “That’s a slur, we can get him for that.”

“I’m witness,” Coach said. “Yes, we sure as hell can.”

“Fuck,” Leo’s blue eyes were dark. “Fuck, I wish I could fight.”

“No,” Finn and Logan said.

Remus gave Sirius’ shoulder two hard pats, then Leo’s, half trying to calm them, half trying to steady himself.

They were up three nothing. They were winning. Remus had already won. Fenrir was a person, but Remus had an entire fucking world.

He leaned down to check on Olli again, but looked at Sirius. “Love you.”

Sirius’s eyes were warm and determined. “I love you, too.”

“Loops, ow,” Olli complained, and they laughed.

The first part of the third period was a blur. The Knights’ defense seemed to get worse with every five minutes. They were up five nothing, Kasey was going to get a shut out, James got his hat trick and hats flew from the few Lions fans in the stands. Sirius laughed and slammed him into the boards to celebrate. The sight made Remus’ entire chest ache, remembering the first time. Sirius got off the ice and tussled Remus’ hair, too, with his glove, and Remus shoved him away, laughing.

They were winning. He—Fenrir’s dark eyes and snarl—was losing. The Vegas crowd was taunting, singing Kasey’s last name in an eerie, stretched out voice, trying to distract him, at the very least make him lose his shut out. They should have known Kasey better.

With five minutes left in the game, Sirius lined up for another face off against Karlsson. Sirius won it, and jetted forward, his eyes on the puck. James weaved his way across the ice, tapping his stick down, asking for the pass. Sirius saw, deked around Reaves. He had an open lane, a perfectly open lane—

Remus saw him coming like a shape in the night. No where, and then there.

Fenrir slammed into Sirius’ stomach, shouldering him against the boards with a sickening crack.

Remus felt his own chest do the same.

A whistle blew, and it bled into the ringing in Remus’ ears.

Sirius was down. Remus watched him try and push himself up once, twice, and then slump. Remus’ hand flew to his throat, where there was no air.

The bench was a flurry of motion instantly, Logan, Finn, Pascal, swinging themselves onto the ice and shouting at the referees.

James was on Grayback, knocking his helmet off but getting dragged away by a referee. The refs didn’t see Pascal coming, though. Pascal tossed off his gloves, grabbed Grayback by the neck and threw a hard punch to his jaw before anyone could see what was happening. Remus watched without breathing. Pascal pinned him against the boards.

And Sirius wasn’t getting up. Olli and Timmy knelt beside him.

Hits come out of no where. Remus knew that very well. But this hit had come from farther than no where. It had come from the unfathomed.

“Sirius,” Remus heard himself say. Medics ran out onto the ice and rolled Sirius onto his back, and then he was out of view. Remus couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open, couldn’t see what was wrong—

He turned to Arthur. “What is it, what is it—”

“We don’t know yet,” Arthur breathed. He held up his calling card in front of his mouth and spoke quickly to Moody and an assistant coach, out of view from any camera. Remus’ stomach lurched when he suddenly saw Alice there, standing just inside the tunnel with a hand to her chest.

Remus felt Moody’s hand on his back. “All right, kid. It’s okay.”

“He needs—take him back, take him away from the—”

A medic put his hand up and Remus knew that sign. Stretcher. They were calling for a stretcher.

Remus grabbed onto the boards and then Leo was there.

“Loops,” he heard Leo say faintly.

“Can you see anything,” Remus said. “Can you see him?”

“There’s no blood,” Leo said. “I think it’s a rib.”

Rib. Ribs could do any height of damage, or none at all.

The stretcher came flying out of the tunnel, and then Sirius was being ushered right past Remus. Remus pushed passed Coach, trying to get a glimpse. He saw a pale gray eye blinking quickly at the quiet crowd, and then Sirius was gone.

Remus looked out out at the ice, to the players still shouting at each other. James was red in the face behind the arms of a referee, and Pascal was spitting right in Fenrir’s. Thomas was on Karlsson. Fleury had skated back to his bench and was talking in quick French to one of his coaches. Their eyes met briefly before Remus looked at the clock, then back down the tunnel.

Two minutes and ten seconds. That was all that was left in the game.

They won. Technically. The locker room was deafening. The only sounds were tape being unwound and bags being unzipped, showers turning on. It felt like time had rewound itself, back to Snape’s hit. James hung back with Remus in the hallway near where Coach was on the phone.

“Sunrise Hospital,” Coach said to them, before continuing to talk.

“Okay,” James said, swiping his hands through his sweaty hair. “Alright, um, we’ll get a cab or—”

Fleury was there suddenly, appearing down the hallway from the direction of the home locker room. He stopped in front of them a little shyly, but held out something—car keys. “You should take my car. You’ll get there faster.” He was still in his full gear, tall in his skates, his kind eyes worried on Remus. “He is horrible. I hate his guts.”

Remus blinked at him, dazed, then nodded.

James took the keys. “Thank you, Fleury.”

It was the second time Remus had felt like he was going to pass out or throw up in a car with James.

“Loops,” James began. He was still mostly in his game dress, sweaty in his under armor and thrown on sweatpants. He still had his contacts in. There was stick tape on one of his shoulders. “It’s—fuck, Remus, I didn’t even see him coming, I…”

“It’s not your fault,” Remus said, and sounded bland even to himself. “You never can see them coming, no one can.”

“I…” James’ phone started ringing. “Fuck, can you get that for me?”

Remus fumbled for it by the gear shift, hoping it would be some news of Sirius. Celeste’s name flashed up at him. Maybe she was looking for news, too. Sirius was like a son to her.

“It’s Celeste.”

“What?” James’ head jerked towards him. “Answer, answer.”

“Celeste?” Remus said. “Hi, it’s Remus.”

“Remus, mon dieu,” Celeste sounded out of breath, and like she was on the road. “Are you on your way to the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Remus swallowed. “Sirius…”

“Lily’s water broke. Tell James to get here as soon as he can.”

“What?” Remus clutched James’ shoulder.

“What, what, what,” James shouted. “What?”

“Lily’s water broke,” Remus gripped tighter.

“Holy fuck,” James passed a hand through his sweaty hair. “Holy fuck, Lils—fuck, tell her I’m on my way. Fuck, I—fuck.”

“He’s coming,” Remus leaned forward against his seatbelt, as if that would make the car go faster. He was torn in two, Lily and Sirius. “Tell Lily.”

“Put me on the phone,” came Lily’s voice in the background. “Put me on the phone.”

Remus gasped in a breath and eyed an upcoming gas station, and then turned to James. “Pots, drop me off here. I’ll call a cab, you have to get to the airport—”

“James?” Lily’s voice came through the phone, and Remus quickly put it on speaker. “James?”

“Hi, Lils,” James said, and put his blinker on, taking a sharp turn into the gas station. “Hi sweetheart, are you okay? You feeling alright?”

“You’re not here and—and—” Lily’s voice was tearful and cut off by a groan.

James pulled the car into park and put a hand over his eyes, taking the phone from Remus. “I know. I know, fuck, I’m sorry, baby, I’m coming as fast as I can, okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes. Is Sirius okay?”

Remus closed his eyes, too, giving himself a second to rest his head back against the car.

“We don’t know anything.”

“It looked so bad, James. Remus?”

“I’m here,” Remus said. “I’m gonna get out and call a cab though so James can get to you, okay?”

“This hurts like a fucking bitch.”

Remus, despite everything, smiled a little. “You got this, Lils.”

“I guess we’ll just wish each other luck, huh?” Lily said faintly. “My boy will come to me, you go to yours.”

Remus swallowed and clicked open the passenger side door. “Yes. Good luck, Lils.”

James pulled him in for a quick one-armed hug. “Love you. Tell Cap that I…”

“He knows,” Remus said, jumping down to the hot smelling cement, even at this late hour. “I’ll keep you updated. You better do the same.”

James nodded, hazel eyes bright. “I will.”

Remus closed the door.

He stood there for a moment, watching James’ taillights disappear and mingle into the traffic.

A bell rang somewhere above him as he went inside, welcomed by the stale smell of chips and burnt coffee. The salesman gave him a phone number for a cab service, and Remus recited the address of the hospital on autopilot. His stomach rolled. Lily. Sirius. Fenrir. The postgame was still playing on the radio.

As Remus stood there, helpless in a gas station parking lot, a very old urge came flooding back. Calf stretches before thigh. Two bottles of water on the bench. Right foot first to step onto the ice. Pasta and marinara before home games, chicken and broccoli before away. Eggs morning of, pancakes after a win. Drag the puck around the goal crease twelve times. Calf stretches before thigh, two bottles of water on the bench, right foot first to step onto the ice, pasta and marinara home, chicken and broccoli away, eggs morning of, pancakes after a win, goal crease, calf, thigh, two bottles, right foot first, pasta, chicken, eggs, win, goal, do it right, win, goal, do something—

Remus sat down hard on the curb and put his head in his hands. He tired to remind himself that those were not the things that got him where he was today. But hockey was like that. Half control. Half commitment and work. And half chance.

Half sheer dumb luck.

#warnings:#homophobia briefly #injury #sweater weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove sweater weather #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #coops #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #harry potter #o'knutzy #sweater weather part 16 #wolfstar smut #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar angst

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fleetingpieces · 4 years ago

Text

My One in a Million CH 6

Here we go! Thanks for the patience and support everyone❤️

Thank you to my amazing betas @knittingdreams and @inloveoknutzy I love you both so much❤️

And thank you so much lovely @heyitssmiller for your amazing vet knowledge and kind help, I hope what I wrote makes sense!😅

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added! <3 )

@justdyingontheinside @donttouchmycarrots @heyoitslysso @whataboutmyfries @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @cheekeebabe

CW: dog getting sick

Here’s the Masterlist, and the story in Ao3 if you prefer to read there :)

Chapter 6 - Water tides

Remus let the water wrap around him lazily as he swam down the middle of Gryffindor Tower’s indoor pool at a serene pace. He was glad to have the place all to himself that late afternoon, as he was exhausted after a pretty intense workout.

His day had been fully booked; he’d been out since morning, only stopping home long enough to grab his gym bag and head to the building’s top floor. He was trying to clear his head and organize his thoughts, but just like in the past three days, his mind drifted to the gift that was still sitting face-down in his guestroom, waiting for him to figure out what the hell to do with it.

As he reached the other end of the pool, he stood there with his hands caressing the surface of the water, feeling the slight resistance it made against his palms.

Sirius had seemed so genuinely sorry and like he was really putting in the effort, and Remus didn’t know what to make of it. It was still hard to believe how fast things had changed; this was the man that had been driving him crazy for weeks... but he was also the one that was making Remus open up about his past, even if it was just a little bit. Even Cocoa liked him. It’d been really hard for Remus not to turn into a fucking pile of goo when he saw them together, and fuck if Sirius’ starstruck face didn’t do things to him. People were usually afraid of Cocoa, but Sirius had opened his arms to him straight away.

What an adorable bastard.

Remus groaned and dived underwater. He stayed in place, floating with his eyes closed. Doing this always gave him a sense of peace that very few other things could. With the exception of yoga, maybe.

It was terribly ironic how sometimes he felt like he couldn’t bring air into his lungs when he remembered that time, but being underwater felt so soothing, even if he was obviously not breathing. There was something about the stillness of it and how weightless it made him feel, as if nothing could bring him down; and having his eyes closed, he could imagine having infinite space all around him, like maybe he’d blink and he’d be floating with the stars.

A splash of bubbles that could only mean another person had jumped into the pool reached his ears.

Remus held on for a few seconds more before he stood up, breaking the surface as he passed a hand through his face and hair to get the water out of his eyes.

“Merde.”

The whispered word echoed in the big room, though Remus was probably not supposed to hear it. He froze with a hand still in his curls and turned towards the voice.

“Sorry, I thought it was empty,” Sirius said from a few feet away. He lifted a muscular arm to rub at the back of his head and frowned with a small smile. “Just how long can you hold your breath?”

Remus just stared at him. At the way the droplets of water dripped from his dark locks and ran down his chest and the planes of his stomach. He swallowed, lifting his gaze before it could travel down further and focused on the piercing grey eyes that were already staring back at him. It felt as though Sirius could see into his soul, and it shocked Remus to realise that the thought wasn’t as scary as it should be.

Remus wasn’t sure how long they stood there, it could have been a second or maybe hours, but the smile slowly faded from Sirius’ face.

“I can go?” he asked unsurely.

“No!” Remus said hastily, before clearing his throat. “No, it’s fine.”

“Ok...” Sirius seemed surprised. They stared at each other a few moments more, Remus wracking his brain for something to say but coming up short. Sirius shifted on his feet. “Well, I don’t want to get in your way, so…”

He started turning around to go to the other side of the pool. Remus took a deep breath.

“Wait.”

Stopping mid-movement, Sirius turned around, arching a perfect eyebrow.

“I…” Remus started, but closed his mouth. Sirius’ eyes softened, and Remus started again, more firmly. “I never thanked you.”

That made Sirius frown. “Why would you need to thank me?”

“For the painting,” Remus said simply, though he figured it should be obvious. He couldn’t help but add with a small crooked smile, “and for the cookies too. Even though they were awful.”

Sirius barked a laugh, covering his face with a hand, and Remus found himself wishing he didn’t. He wanted to see the way his eyes crinkled. “Yeah, well. I should have asked first before I did anything, sorry I assumed-”

“No,” Remus interrupted, shaking his head. “No, you had no way of knowing.” He stopped to take another deep breath. “I'm sorry, I overreacted.”

Sirius raised both eyebrows at that, he clearly hadn't expected an apology. He regarded Remus steadily before he shrugged. “It's important to you. I think it's perfectly reasonable to react the way you did.”

Such a simple phrase, and yet something tugged fiercely in Remus’ chest. He tried to ignore it and sank until the water covered up to his shoulders. There was something about this man that made raw emotions come to the surface, and he tried his best to control them.

“Still, you were only trying to do something nice. So thank you.”

Sirius nodded as he stared at him, a small smile on his face again.

“Maybe we can start over?” He swam closer and Remus resisted the urge to sink lower. Instead, he got up when the other man extended a hand towards him. "Hi. I'm Sirius Black, and I live in apartment 12. Nice to meet you," he grinned.

The resolution on Sirius' face made Remus smile too, before he glanced down at the outstretched hand and reached to shake it. Despite the coldness of the water, Sirius’ palm was so warm that Remus felt it in his core, and he looked back up quickly to find Sirius giving him an odd look.

“Remus Lupin. I’m in apartment 10, right next to yours. Funny that we didn’t bump into each other sooner,” he said playfully, earning himself another wholehearted laugh from the other man, his chest rising and falling with it.

“Ouais, funny that,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He let go of Remus’ hand and promptly plunged underwater, emerging only one second later while shaking his hair like a dog and sending a wall of droplets in Remus’ face.

“You mutt,” said Remus as he raised an arm to cover himself, making Sirius smile widely.

God, does he ever stop grinning?

“So, what brought you to Gryffindor?”

The casual way he asked it made Remus relax some more. He sagged back down and moved from the shallow part of the pool, treading water as he thought of everything that had led him here.

“It’s kind of a long story, but the main reason is that I wanted to expand my brand, and I thought living in a bigger city would be better for that purpose.”

Sirius nodded as though he knew exactly what Remus was talking about. “Yeah, that makes sense. Where did you live before?”

A wistful smile tugged at Remus’ mouth, and he noticed Sirius tilting his head in curiosity. “In the countryside, just outside of Gryffindor. I was born there and lived in that town my whole life until I decided to move here.”

“Do you miss it?” Sirius asked softly.

The water lapping around them was the only sound in the air as Remus looked down at his hands, weaving them just beneath the surface.

“Yeah...I miss my mum and Leo mostly. I know it’s not too far, but it’s not easy to see them either. I guess it’s hard for me not seeing them everyday.” Remus didn’t add that it made him feel lonely, or like he was back in room 308, but Sirius seemed to sense that it was making him feel sad, cause he didn’t ask more about that and moved to another question.

“What’s your hometown like?”

Remus smiled thankfully at him. “It’s really small, nothing compared to this,” he made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “But it’s beautiful. There’s this beach that Leo and I used to go to all the time when we were kids, and later on we would always find the time to go there on small camping trips, just the two of us in bedrolls, sleeping under the stars. It became a tradition. And then, there’s a forest on the other side, with these huge trees that go on for miles, and there’s a-” Remus stopped himself when he realised he’d been going on and on without a pause, blushing a bit. He looked at Sirius sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

But Sirius was just looking at him with a dopey smile. “That’s ok. I like listening to you speak.”

Remus didn’t know what to do with that, so he cleared his throat. “What about you?”

“Hm?” Sirius asked distractedly.

“Did you always live here?”

That seemed to snap him out of whatever he’d been lost in. He ran a hand through his hair, which stayed pushed back, sleeked by the water. Remus liked it. He could see more of his face like this.

“Uh, no. I grew up in Slytherin, actually. But I went to boarding school when I got older, so I spent a lot of my teenage years there. It’s where I met James and most of the guys.”

There it was again, that fond smile, and Remus found himself asking, wanting to know more, “what was it like, going to a boarding school?”

Sirius laughed at that, and walked to lean his back against the side of the pool, his forearms resting over the edge. He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway look. “Oh, it was great. Not so much at the beginning though. I lived a pretty sheltered life up to that point, so you can imagine I was a bit of a snobbish dick.”

“A bit?” Remus raised a teasing eyebrow, making Sirius laugh again and focus his gaze on him.

“Trust me, whatever you think of me now, I was ten times worse.”

“I don’t really think you’re like that,” Remus replied, and was surprised to realise he meant it. Sirius’ smile faltered, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Remus beat him to it quickly, “so what made you change?”

There were a few seconds in which Sirius just stared at him with an unreadable expression. “James,” he said plainly in the end.

“James?”

“James,” Sirius agreed. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if we hadn’t met. He made me see I was behaving like an idiot, and everything I was missing out on.” He turned his head and gave Remus a sad smile before he continued, “I didn’t have any real friends before James.”

There was a deep pain rooted there that Remus couldn’t completely grasp, but he felt that it wasn’t his place to ask. “So you guys were friends from the start?”

“Pretty much,” he said, and then a laugh escaped him. “I tried to shove him aside at first, but he clung to me like a koala. I don’t even know why he wanted to be friends with me then.”

Remus thought about the way Sirius’ face lit up when he was close to James or when he talked about him. It was obvious to anyone that they were close, and how much it meant to Sirius.

“Well, I’m glad you found him.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said softly, “me too.”

“So how did you end up in Gryffindor?”

Sirius chuckled, “that would be James’ fault again. He grew up here, and I used to spend months at his house during the summer hols. It’s where I went when I finally ran from home; his parents took me in.”

He’d spoken casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world, but still Remus felt his heart stutter. “You...you ran away?”

Sirius’ eyes widened a bit, clearly he hadn’t realised how much he’d said. He glanced at Remus a bit wearily, who hastened to add, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it.”

Some of the tightness seemed to leave Sirius’ shoulders as he exhaled sharply. “No, it’s ok. I...fuck. My family and I had different views about...things. They own this big company and run in some upper circles of society that I never had any interest in.”

It was Remus’ turn to have his eyes widen like ping pong balls as the realisation hit him like a bag of wet sand. “Wait...you’re that Black? From Black Enterprises?”

The tension in Sirius’ jaw was so sudden and intense, Remus regretted his words instantly.

“No. I mean, yes. I should be. But I left that behind years ago.”

There was a crease between his brows, and Remus’ hand started stretching towards it to smooth it, but he caught himself in time and pretended to scratch at his cheek instead.

“Ah, sorry, my bad. I thought for a second that you were. But you must be the Sirius Black from Gryffindor, huh? I’ve heard great things about him,” Remus said in a light tone. At first, Sirius frowned at him as if he’d gone crazy and Remus shifted awkwardly. But slowly, it started melting away until he started laughing at Remus’ antics, one hand clutching his stomach.

“God, you’re so weird.” There was that sweet smile again, directed fully at him, and Remus’ heart stuttered for an entirely different reason.

After that, Remus lost track of time as they talked and splashed about. He felt surprisingly light. Laughter was not in short amounts, an easy banter settling between them, and sometimes he’d catch Black staring at him with an indecipherable smile on his face. It felt like they’d been friends for years and not just a few hours, which was something Remus’ brain couldn’t completely wrap around.

Their topics went from the most trivial things to some that bordered in way-too-intimate for how long they’d known each other, but it didn’t feel weird or forced.

Remus mentioned how much he enjoyed a cup of tea in the afternoon. Sirius told him that he’d started smoking at 16, and had quit three times so far but started again when he felt overwhelmed. Remus talked a bit about his mum and how hard she worked to bring money in, and how Remus had to practically beg her to let him help once his business had taken off. Sirius confessed to being afraid of spiders to which Remus couldn’t keep in a laugh.

“Really? Spiders?”

“Oh, shut up, you,” Sirius had said with no real venom as he splashed him with water, making Remus laugh harder. Remus didn’t miss how Sirius' eyes hadn’t left his face when he’d looked back up at him.

They had started drifting closer to each other, and right then Sirius was swimming backwards around Remus as he told a story about a school prank. Remus was turning around slowly on his feet to keep him in sight, entirely too conscious of the way that the movement with each backstroke made Sirius’ back look even bigger. And how the waves Sirius was making kept lapping at Remus’ lower belly.

What the fuck am I thinking?

He shook his head just in time to catch Sirius’ next question.

“Did you always know you wanted to teach yoga?”

“Oh. Well, not really. I always thought I wanted to be a writer,” Remus chuckled. “But then after...Um, a couple years ago I decided to start a healthier lifestyle, and discovered I really liked it.” He gave a small shrug. “I decided to focus on that, and I don’t regret my decision.”

Sirius hummed as he kept swimming with his eyes closed. Feeling a bit weird just staring at him, Remus pushed his legs up and started floating on his back, focusing on the ceiling instead.

“So, what do you do for a living?” he asked.

He heard more than saw Sirius stop and stand up at once.

“I um...I work as a freelancer from home.”

“That’s nice. What kind of jobs do you do?”

“Oh, all sorts of things. Y’know, I never learned to float like that,” he said in a rush, which struck Remus as a bit weird. He let his feet angle down and touch the floor, and he pulled himself upright to eye Sirius curiously. He was fidgeting, but smiled at Remus hopefully, so Remus smiled too.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

Sirius’ face lit up. “Would you?”

“If you want,” Remus shrugged.

Sirius nodded enthusiastically and took a couple steps closer.

“Ok, try to align yourself with the water, and I’ll help by holding you until you can adjust your body on your own. It’s easier to float if you take a deep breath and hold it, so let’s start with that.”

“Ok, I can do that.”

“You need to be perfectly relaxed, ok? Save that puppy energy for something else.”

“D’accord, d’accord,” Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus tried to ignore how nicely the words rolled out of his tongue.

He watched as Sirius breathed in and pulled himself into a horizontal position. He held it for barely one second before he started sinking, so Remus took a deep breath too and moved over to place one hand in the middle of his back, and the other under his head.

Soft.

It was all Remus could think as the dark strands of hair fell between his fingers.

“Tip your head back and lift your chin. There should be no tension on your neck.” Remus’ voice was mellow, automatically slipping into the tone he used for his classes. “Put your arms just like this.” He removed his hand from Sirius’ head and used it to bring the arm closest to him slightly up, Sirius’ fingers brushing against Remus’ thigh, and then placed it back in the inky hair.

“My hips keep going down,” Sirius chuckled, making the water ripple in small waves. His eyes were closed, his chin tilted up just like Remus had told him to, exposing the long lines of his neck. Remus looked away, trying to keep a blush at bay.

“Ok, I’m going to move my hand to support you better, is that ok?”

A breathy “oui” was all he got for an answer.

Remus’ hand trailed down, his fingers brushing against Sirius’ spine until he could place it more firmly against the small of his back. He could’ve sworn he felt Sirius shiver, but that could be because of the water.

Looking down at Sirius’ toes, he told him to try and relax more. His eyes went up his legs as he gave small advices on how he should place his body, passing by the blue swim trunks that clung to his thighs, then kept going up his hip bones, toned stomach and chest, telling him to try and push up. He glanced up at that long, elegant neck, until he finally stopped when he found silver eyes staring intently at him.

In that moment, with those eyes locked with his and feeling overly conscious of the skin he was touching, Remus felt a bolt go through his fingers and removed his hands instantly as if he’d been burned, and Sirius flailed his arms and sank.

He stood up spluttering, water dripping everywhere.

“Remus what the fuck-” he started complaining, but stopped short when he realised just how close they were standing.

Remus felt his breath hitch in his throat as he was engulfed in the grey once more. Wet hair fell over his eyes, and this close, he could make out all the shades, every spot in those irises. He felt like he was staring at a tempest sea, the calmness around them making him feel like he was in the eye of the hurricane, and he was about to be swept up in the storm.

Sirius’ breath fanned against Remus’ face, slipping between his parted lips. His eyes darted down to stare at Sirius’ mouth, those pink lips that looked so incredibly soft that Remus wanted to reach up and touch them with his fingers. The tip of his tongue moved to wet his lips, and when he glanced up again he caught Sirius following the movement. The other man inched his face closer, torturously slow, until Remus tilted his head up slightly.

Everything around them seemed to be suspended in time, waiting, waiting… And then that same memory was flashing through his mind and Remus pulled away.

“Remus?” Sirius asked, confused, and Remus’ heart gave another painful tug.

“I...I...” Remus backed against the wall so much he wished he could just become one with it. Sirius took a step back and watched him with worried eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...Are you ok?”

“I just- I...I gotta go.”

Not waiting for any answer, Remus turned around and lifted himself out of the water, and basically bolted back to the changing rooms.

He didn’t even stop to take a shower, just changed his clothes as fast as he could, grateful that Sirius didn’t come looking for him.

Once inside his flat, he unceremoniously dropped his bag and keys on the floor, and let his head fall back against the door.

What the fuck was that?

It was so not like him to do something like this. He knew better than to get tangled in... in whatever happened at the pool was. Focus on your career, that was the goal. No time to meet anyone just to get into a relationship, get attached, and then be left broken.

But Sirius just...it felt so natural to be around him. Remus was still surprised at how comfortable he felt around the other man, given the way they’d started things off. If the image he’d had of Sirius was so far off the mark, then maybe Sirius was not like-

No.

He was done with relationships and that was that.

“Ugh, fuck,” Remus groaned, then finally glanced around his flat. “Cocoa?” he called, surprised that he hadn’t been tackled in a bear hug yet. “Cocoa, c’mon boy. Let’s go for a walk. Fuck knows I certainly need some fresh air.”

It was dark outside already, but Remus’ heart was still beating wildly, and he didn’t think he could stand to just stay inside. He needed to calm down and get his mind off dark hair, stormy eyes and wet lips.

When he still got no response, Remus frowned. It was very unlike Cocoa not to rush to greet him or come to him when called. Even if he’d been sleeping, he’d always wake up to the sound of Remus coming back home.

Remus stepped into the living room, walking around the couch to where Cocoa usually laid in his dog bed. And there he was, with his head between his paws, looking up at Remus with big, yellow eyes. He whined when Remus got close.

“Hey boy, there you ar-” Remus stopped himself with the immediate knowledge that something was wrong. Cocoa was trying to get up, but his legs were trembling and he fell over. Remus rushed forward and knelt at his side, noting how fast Cocoa’s heart was beating, and the spasms still going through his body. “What’s going on? Cocoa, what’s wrong?”

Remus was frantically trying to figure out what was happening when his eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper. He snatched it up and his heart stopped. It was the wrapper for one of his favourite dark chocolates, and there were only a couple of bitten pieces left in it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did you get this? When did you-? Oh my God, when did you eat it?” Remus wracked his brain, trying to remember if the wrapper was there when he’d stop by his flat a few hours earlier, but he had no idea. He remembered thinking Cocoa seemed a bit more energetic than usual, but he hadn’t thought too much of it.

Shaking out of the whirlpool that were his thoughts, Remus carefully picked Cocoa up and rushed to the door.

“Please hang on, boy. Please, please, please hang on.”

#wolfstar fic #wolfstar #my writing #My One in a Million #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #youtuber #youtuber!au #yoga!au #muggle AU

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