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actuallysaiyan · 3 years

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Hold Me(Kakashi Hatake x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 1,603 Pairings: Kakashi Hatake x Reader Summary: Reader has loved Kakashi since they were children, but she knew that it would be hard to get underneath all his layers and get to his heart. She knows he doesn’t think he is worthy of love, but she knows he is. She’ll do anything to show him how amazing he truly is. Warnings: Fluffy, bittersweet, mentions of Rin and Obito, sadness. A/N: Just letting everyone know, I write Naruto content for real now. I’ve finished Shippuden and you can send in your Naruto requests!

It took you so long to finally come to terms with your feelings. You had known him for so long, and you always tried to suppress how you truly felt. You knew that Kakashi wasn’t someone who was so willing to open up to people. He had gone through so much in his life, and you were always there on the sidelines to adore him from the sidelines.

But now, you were an adult and you were trying to get your life together. Both of your parents had died when you were really young, so just like Kakashi, you had to fend for yourself and grow up quickly. Finally, you were financially and emotionally in a good spot, but something was still missing.

You wanted to have a good relationship with somebody and maybe start a family, but you wanted no one else but Kakashi. You felt like maybe you should give up before you even start, considering he was not going to accept your flirtings or advances. He just wasn’t ready for something like that, and maybe he’d never be ready for it. Kakashi was way too afraid to lose someone else in his life, so he just happily went along and lived alone and contented himself with reading his erotica books for entertainment between training sessions and missions.

Days would go by before you finally decided to go see him. He was hanging out under a tree, watching his team train. You had your hands full with your own team, and they were making decent progress. From what you had heard, Kakashi ended up with the sole member of the Uchiha clan and Naruto Uzumaki as his students, along with a young woman named Sakura. Kakashi definitely had his hands full with this group.

The two young men were at odds with each other with the girl trying to be the mediator. This scene really reminded you of when you and Kakashi were young and he was on his team with Rin and Obito. It was almost like you were looking into the past.

“Kakashi~” You announced your presence. He looked up at you and you could see him smiling under his mask.

“Hi,” Kakashi casually said as he kept an eye on his team.

You walked over to him and plopped yourself down on the grass near his feet. He stared at you for a moment before crouching down to your level. You smiled at him before ruffling his hair playfully.

“How have you been?” You asked, hoping to talk to him for a little while. Your heart was pounding as you tried to remind yourself why you were really here.

“I’ve been pretty busy. How about yourself?”

You started to talk a bit, mostly about your missions and other things. As you both continued to chat, you noticed his students keeping a watchful eye on both of you. You could tell that these youngsters didn’t think that Kakashi had many friends.

“I was wondering, if you aren’t too busy, you and I could go for some ramen later tonight.” You asked, nervously looking away from Kakashi’s glance.

Kakashi looks down, a blush not apparent on his face due to his mask. “Uhm, I don’t know if I’ll have enough time.” He was making up an excuse, but in reality, he wanted to go with you.

“Oh, well maybe some other time.” You said, trying to hide your disappointment. Kakashi just chuckled nervously and nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then walked over to his team. You wondered if he was just trying to deflect, but you figured he just wasn’t interested in you at all.

You could imagine your surprise when later that night, there’s a knock at your door and on the other side, it’s Kakashi. He’s got his hands behind his back and he’s looking pretty anxious. You’re very surprised but also pleased to see him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, hoping he had found the time to go out with you.

“I switched around a few things on my schedule,” he started. “I’m feeling pretty hungry, would you like to get some ramen?”

You eyed him a little suspiciously, wondering if someone put him up to this. You knew sometimes Gai would egg on Kakashi and make him do some pretty silly things. Yet, you felt a little more at ease when Kakashi said please. Your heart swelled at the thought of him actually wanting to spend some time with you.

The walk to Ramen Ichiraku wasn’t long and you were enjoying the warm night air. Kakashi wasn’t really sure what to say to you, so you mostly just took the lead in the conversation. Finally, you spotted the stall and you challenged Kakashi to a race. He wasn’t ready for that, so you obviously won.

“That wasn’t very fair,” Kakashi teased, but he sat next to you.

“I know, but I won anyway.” You said as you stuck out your tongue. Kakashi chuckled.

You both ordered some ramen and enjoyed each other’s company. It wasn’t often that you got to spend some alone time with Kakashi and you knew it wasn’t going to be possible anytime soon after this. You both had your teams to take care of and they would be taking their Chunin exams very shortly.

As the night went on, you could feel your feelings for Kakashi grow even more. Part of you wanted to pull his mask down and kiss him softly, and the other part of you wanted to run home and cry in bed because you knew he would never want to get into a serious relationship.

The date came to an end way too quickly, and Kakashi offered to walk you home. You happily accepted his offer, knowing that your only chance to tell him how you truly felt would be now or never. You didn’t want it to be never, but you could feel your stomach clench at the thought of confessing.

You stood with your back to your apartment door, watching Kakashi with half-lidded eyes. You weren’t really sure how you could start this conversation, but thankfully Kakashi wasn’t an idiot. He knew you had feelings for him, and he knew for quite some time now.

“Listen, this was really fun, but I don’t know if we could keep doing this.” Kakashi started, and you could already feel your heart wrench.

“Oh, I see. Well, it was nice to spend time with you.” You were already mentally kicking yourself for not telling him how you truly felt and fighting for his affections.

You turned to open your door, but stopped midway and turned back around to face him.

“No, I’m not letting you go.” You stood your ground as Kakashi wasn’t really sure how to react.

“Kakashi, you spend most of your time alone. You’ve never allowed yourself to love someone after what happened with your teammates, but I’ve always been there for you. I know I’m not going to replace Rin or Obito, but I love you.”

Kakashi is a little shocked, but he regained his composure pretty quickly. He leaned in towards you, cupping your face gently. He doesn’t want to break your heart, but he doesn’t think he’s worthy of your love at all. He’s too afraid to lose someone so precious to him once again.

“I can’t do this. You deserve so much more,” Kakashi muttered, and you shake your head no.

“Kakashi, you must really think you’re unlovable, but you truly deserve my love. I want to show you that you can be happy again.” You pressed your forehead to his, looking into his eyes wantonly.

Your fingers traced his face softly before removing his mask and exposing his gorgeous face to you. You had only seen his face fully once or twice, but now it was different. It lit a fire in your belly and you leaned in to kiss him passionately.

Kakashi didn’t pull away, instead he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer. He knew it was going to take him some time to get used to this kind of treatment, but he wanted to be loved so badly. He needed to be loved, and especially by you.

You pulled away, holding him at arm's length to study his reaction. He’s got a dopey look on his face, but you knew he was a little apprehensive. You pulled him in for a hug, holding him close to you.

“I can’t bring back the people you love, but I can show you how amazing you truly are. I love you so much, and I can’t hide those feelings anymore.” You confessed. Kakashi hummed softly before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“You are way too amazing for me, love. Are you sure this is what you want?” Kakashi asked, hoping you would change your mind and find someone who was much more full of life and wasn’t so damaged.

“I couldn’t be any more sure of something in my life. I love you.”

He smiled softly, not really sure what to say or how to react. You invited him inside to stay the night and he happily agreed. The rest of the night consisted of you comforting him and reminding him of how much he was worthy of your love.

And Kakashi would never go without love for any longer. For the rest of his life, you would always be there to show him that he wasn’t too damaged or too far gone to be happy.

#writing #not requested #naruto #naruto shippuden #kakashi #i love kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi x reader fluff #kakashi is so adorable #kakashi deserves all the love #kakashi is not damaged he is so good #naruto fluff #naruto shippuden fluff

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sunaswife · 3 years

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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: TAGLIST CLOSED

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter seven

“Alrighty give mommy kissy.” You squatted down. Both of your kids tackled you in a hug and they kissed your cheeks. You kissed them back and pulled away. You watched as they walked to the bus.

Even though they’re homeschool, they offered a program where your kids can still go to class in person once a week so they can socialize and it won’t affect their mental health. After talking to another mother who put her kids in the same program, she recommended it and you decided that it was best.

Your kids already socialized in their volleyball practice but it wouldn’t hurt for them to talk more with other kids.

You saw as Rini helped his sister up the bus first and blocked the back of her skirt from showing her shorts underneath and you lowkey wanted to cry because he was such a gentleman. He then got in and they sat together on the right side of the bus and they waved you goodbye. You waved back and the bus began to leave.

You sighed and turned back home. You washed this morning’s dirty dishes and cleaned a bit around. After you were satisfied with the presentation of your house, you made your way to your small studio office and began answering more emails and writing topics for the new podcast episode you and Jamie had to record.

You took another sip of your barley warm tea and finally you heard the doorbell ring. You glanced at the time on your watch and realized it wasn’t 12 yet, it was probably Jamie.

You carried your laptop and placed it on the dining table and ran to the door. “I’m coming!” You yelled as Jamie rang the bell again. You opened the door revealing your two best friends and you were shocked to see Hana. She’s your best friend from highschool, the one who blocked the boy’s numbers and let you spend the night when you got kicked out.

She was also the one who was rooting for you and Suna but she was more than furious when she found out what happened. You called her on New Years and started balling your eyes out.

You told her to never date boys cause they sucked but little did you know she had a big crush on you. You were her first love.

I guess you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. So when Rin started to take your attention, she felt jealousy and loneliness but your happiness mattered more than her selfishness.

She became a fashion major in University but dropped out because she didn’t like what they were teaching. With the bit she learned and already knew, she turned into art. She made beautiful leather pieces of lingerie with straps and belts and lace and the models needed dramatic makeup and hair. And you happened to know an amazing makeup artist.

That’s where Jamie came in.

And eventually they fell in love.

Hana is always busy with her lingerie company since everything is hand crafted and not made in a factory like Jamie’s makeup products. So that’s why it was a shock to see her here during the day at least. “Come in come in. Mi casa es su casa.” You said in broken Spanish and they laughed.

Jamie sat on the dining table and sighed. She rubbed her baby bump and you asked if she wanted something to drink. You got her water as well as some wine for Hana. “So they’re really coming over?” Hana asked as she opened Jamie’s laptop and set it up for her wife.

“Yeah I hope so. If they flake I’m not gonna give him another chance. I already told the kids he’ll be here and they’re excited.” You said and she nodded. “Good.” Hana replied. You and Jamie began reading eachothers notes and topics regarding the podcast. “I think Hana is gonna have to take my place on the podcast if I pop.” Jamie mentioned randomly.

“Hell no.” Hana immediately said. “That’s a you two thing I’m not getting into it.” Hana said sternly. “But Hana, since Jamie got pregnant. You didn’t have a face for your spicy lingerie line. So I temporarily replaced her. Surely you could do the same!” You exclaimed and she rolled her eyes. “Speaking of lingerie I have something I want you to try for the next photoshoot. I’ll go get it after my smoke.” She said and you rolled your eyes with a nod.

“It’s pretty hot, like a harness thing on your wrist that connects to your thighs.” Jamie spoke up as Hana left. “Where does Hana come up with these things?” You asked and Jamie made a smirky face. “Nevermind I don’t wanna hear about your guy’s sex life.” You shuttered and she snickered.

Hana got out your front door, walked to her fancy Mercedes and took out the gift wrapped box as well as her favorite pack of smokes. She sat on the small bench in the front of your house and she lit the lighter, breathing in the nicotine. She sighed and wondered if you’re going to be okay with your ex seeing his kids.

If it was her she would refuse to let him see them and take it to court. But you weren’t like that. You always had hope and patience that you’d meet Suna again someway somehow.

She heard a car door slam and looked up to see the three tall figures get out of a car. She exhaled the smoke and they looked up to see her. “It’s been a long time, huh?” She tilted her head to the side and Suna scratched the back of his neck as he neared. “Hana I—I’m sorry for everything.” He said. “I trusted you with my best friend and you hurt her. I don’t think I could ever forgive you for hurting my first love like that.” She spoke bitterly and put out the cigarette in the small froggy bowl turned ashtray that the twins made.

“First love?” Osamu asked and Hana stayed quiet and motioned for them to follow her. Suna didn’t know what to say, after you left Hyogo Suna began bugging her for answers and she went off on him once and that’s when he realized that Hana was gay and in love with you the whole time.

Immediately when the door opened they heard yelling and singing. Obviously confused the boys looked at eachother but Hana seemed unfazed, she’s used to her wife’s chaotic nature and even though you’re pretty quiet and collected you make a complete 360 with Jamie around. You were both like Yin and Yang.

“Shh she’s been trying to get this song down for weeks.” Hana whispered as the boys followed through the small hall. They looked at the photos that adorned the wall and they saw baby photos of Suna’s kids and they truly looked like him. From the corner of his eye, Suna saw a photo of you with Shawn Mendes and smiled that you finally had a chance to meet your celebrity crush.

Suna nor the twins didn’t know what to expect when they saw you again. But they were shocked to see you in your true nature with studio headphones over your ears as you sang each note higher and higher. Jamie was yelling and slamming the table with her palm encouraging you to keep on going. Jamie used to do that in parties, drinking games were her favorite.

You finally finished the song and you took off your headphones and started screaming. “SIX WEEKS IT TOOK ME SIX FUCKING WEEKS TO COPY IT TO A T! I DID IT OH MY GOD!” You yelled and Jamie yelled again too. “BITCH I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT BUT YOU-“

“SELF-“ punch

“DOUBT-“ punch

“ALL-“ punch

“THE-“ punch

“TIME!” punch

“Alright alright I get it goddamn—if you weren’t pregnant you know I would punch you just as hard.” You scowled as you rubbed your arm. “Sorry y/n.” She apologized and chuckled. “We’re not interrupting right?” Hana spoke up causing you and Jamie to turn. The three men stood behind her and your face fell. The air shifted and you suddenly felt cold.

“No just work stuff.” You said and you quickly stood up. “Welcome to my home. You’re welcome to sit at the table.” You said and closed your laptop. “Would you like anything to drink..?” You asked, trying to be hospitable and Hana scoffed. “Give them water, you don’t have to be nice to them.” Hana said and she sat by Jamie. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at the three men. “Water is fine..” Suna spoke up and the twins nodded.

“Sit.” Jamie said and motioned to the dining chairs. They all sat awkwardly while waiting for you to come back from the kitchen. You had your tray with their water, more tea for you and Jamie, and a glass of wine for Hana.

“Alright where do we start..” you said as you sat down next to Suna since that was the only empty spot. “The beginning.” Jamie shrugged. “I already explained what happened. I told her everything.” Jamie told the boys and immediately Atsumu scowled. “Knowing you you probably made yourself sound less bad.” He muttered, immediately Hana was about to say something but you interrupted. “Did you make the bet?” You asked the blonde, “Y..Yeah..” he frowned and shifted in the seat awkwardly, “Did you accept the bet?” You turned to Suna. “Yes..” he said guiltily. “Did you think Suna would win?” You asked Osamu. “Yeah.” “Jamie Did you think pissy— I mean Atsumu would win?” You asked her and she sighed a yes. “And did you all bet with money?” You asked. They all replied with yeahs and yes’s.

“Did you guys agree to quit because it was wrong?” You asked and they all nodded. “Then that’s all that happened. I don’t need to know anything else.” You explained.

“Look guys.” Jamie spoke up and she tapped her manicured fingers on the table nervously. “It took a long ass time for Y/N to forgive me and trust me, I ruined her life and I’m blessed to have met her. Without her I’d probably still be in an abusive relationship. Without her I wouldn’t have learned how to be humble and grateful for even waking up in the morning. She’s my best friend and I’m telling you straight up if you truly want to be her friend again. You need to work for it, Suna if you really want to be in the kids lives and earn Y/N’s trust you truly need to work for it.” she said almost desperately.

“If you ever disrespect her again. I will not hesitate to sock you in the face and I’ll call up Tobio if I have to. That goes for all of you.” Hana told the three men.

“Do you guys have anything to say?” You asked. “I would apologize but I’d rather let you see it than hear it.” Suna spoke up and you nodded. “Alright.” You said simply.

“I’m sorry, Y/N-cha—I mean Kageyama.” Atsumu said. “I’m sorry Kageyama.” Osamu finished and you nodded once more.

“Okay this is awkward. I forgave you guys a long time ago but I don’t trust either of you. Atsumu, Osamu you are not obligated to be my friend. Suna you aren’t obligated to be my friend either but I would appreciate it if we were civil with one another for the sake of the kids. If you ever have any questions regarding the kids I’ll be happy to answer.” You told him as you played with the tea bag in your cup, and they all stared at you.

Like that’s it? You forgive them? You’re not going to throw your tea at them?

“Um I kind of want to ask about the ya know..”

“Pregnancy?” Hana raised a brow and Suna nodded awkwardly. “Like when did you find out....and is that why you left?” He asked. “If its alright can we talk about that in private?” You asked and stood up. “Y-yeah sure.” Suna stuttered and he stood up as well. “Hana, Jamie you don’t mind—“ “The bus honks at 13:30 we know. We’ll be able to hear it.”

“Yeah and we have a lot of catching up to do.” Jamie fake smiled and you wanted to snort at the her disgust and their awkwardness. “Alright follow me.” You motioned down the hall. You opened the door to the kids room and you took a step in. He followed you and closed the door. You both released a sigh and you sat on Akira’s bed. “You can sit there.” You motioned to your sons bed.

He nodded and sat on the small bed. “Okay so..the pregnancy..” you started. “Mhm.” He nodded. “I found out on January 25th, I wasn’t feeling the best for a while and I couldn’t handle the discomfort anymore so I went to the hospital with my mom. The doctor asked me the basic sex questions and tested my urine. My mom came into the room when I was told the news and I was basically disowned.” You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

You hugged your knees to your chest. He could already feel the shame you must have felt in his chest. “I had to walk to the pharmacy in my school uniform to get to prenatales since my mom told me to walk home. When I finally arrived home, my room was trashed and they were asking if you happened to be the dad. I told them no. He even threatened to kick me out and I told him I didn’t know so I was kicked out and I left. I spent the night at Hana’s and the next day I resigned as the team’s manager, and gathered all my papers to transfer.” You said and he rubbed his face and sighed.

His birthday.

You found out on his birthday.

He patiently listened and asked a few questions here or there and before you knew it you barley heard the faint foot steps and the door bursting open. You both turned to see your guy’s kids standing there. “See I told you they were talking.” Akira mumbled. “Aunt Hana said something about them making out.” Rini huffed.

“She said making up not out! Are you an idiot or an idiot?!” Akira said slightly frustratedly. “I’m older than you, don’t call me an idiot.” He said and shoved her. Before you could scold your son, you saw Akira’s whole demeanor change and you knew Rini was fucked. “How many times has mom said to stop shoving girls and pushing women! If you keep at it than you’re going to be a bad husband to your future wife someday you stupid Rabbit!” She yelled as she tackled him and began smacking him around. “Get off me you nerd!” He yelled and you quickly pulled Akira away.

Rini began crying and Akira did too and you sighed and turned to Suna.

“Welcome to parenthood.”

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#haikyuu suna #miya atsumu #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarō #suna x reader #haikyuu x you #miya osamu #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader

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whump-town · 3 years

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You Dance With Tears In Your Eyes

Summary: a college AU set up in the late 80s/early 90s with football star and quarterback Derek Morgan and his secret boyfriend Hotch-- it's not a happy story but I don't think I really have to warn you guys about that anymore

Also, a little based on a story my grandmother told me about my great uncle and his partner. Never met my great uncle but everyone says I'm a lot like him, I think they just mean gay but don't know how to say it

Warnings: homophobia, violence, racism *I mean it when I say homophobia*

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Aaron Hotchner

@yourlocalheartbreaker

The title is from Frank Ocean's song Self Control

Now and then you miss it, sounds make you cry Some nights you dance with tears in your eyes I came to visit, 'cause you see me like a UFO That's like never, 'cause I made you use your self-control And you made me lose my self-control, my self-control

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Living shouldn’t be reduced down to what it is, the bare bones of things that don’t even make Derek Morgan who he is. He lives by them anyways, stupid rules. Social norms, Aaron always clarifies because even when those silly rules drown them Aaron needs to be concise. Social norms dictate every inch of life and for once Derek wishes he were the type of person who could be given that inch and take a mile. They’re the reason he can’t hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. Why he can’t kiss Aaron on New Years’ and why he is reduced down to loving his roommate. Why, at this rate, he’ll never marry or adopt children, or why he could lose any career he goes into because some nosy asshole finds out his partner isn’t a woman. And, yes, he knows there are anti-discriminatory laws but he’s a black gay man. The world is stacked against him.

It makes him so angry. He’s blinded by the irrational of it all, why nothing can just be simple for them. Aaron tries to comfort him but Derek’s anger scares him, he doesn’t understand it. Aaron has long lost the ability to decipher the complexity of human emotions. Still flinches at loud noises like he’s expecting each bump to be accompanied by the pain that laced his childhood and has to ask, around every turn, if Derek’s angry with him. He can’t tell. Everything looks like anger. With Derek, it frequently is. They cope in very different ways, Aaron chooses nothing. Shutting down all his emotions until he cracks and that’s worse. It’s worse than Derek’s anger. That doesn’t mean Derek doesn’t hate the way he quakes with fury. If not because it feels childish to be blinded by emotions then because it scares Aaron.

There are a million other things, at twenty there always is. It’s his philosophy class with all this bullshit reading he doesn’t understand. He has to ask Aaron for help and Aaron has to ask him for help with things too but it makes Derek feel stupid. It’s philosophy, it can’t be that hard. That’s the same way Aaron feels about calculus. There’s maintaining rent and going grocery shopping and football (games, practice, gym, and training).

College had been a learning curve. Getting up at four in the morning to go to the gym for football had been the hardest thing in the world without his mother flicking his bedroom lights on and off or Desiréecoming in to smack him in the face with a pillow. There’s no one in the entire world in charge of getting him out of his bed other than him and, in his freshman year, while he had thought sleeping on that impossibly hard mattress would leave much to be desired, and it did, he found himself glued to his every morning. Not wanting to leave the safety of its flimsy comfort.

Sharing an apartment worked wonders, having a workaholic boyfriend was really the best trick. An unexpected answer to his problems but, also, a very cute one. He managed to add one person to the list of people that cared about where he was, that made sure he got up in time to make it to the gym and practice, and asked if he had a bad day or rub at his sore muscles.

Derek rolls over in bed, not as surprised as he should be to find the other half empty. “Aaron?” He still searches, runs his hand over the sheets as if he doesn’t know that if Aaron were in the bed he’d be right there. Hogging the bed and the blankets, pressed up against Derek’s back snoring like there’s no tomorrow. “Aaron?” Derek sits up and squints, grimaces at the light trailing in from the open door.

Aaron’s hunched over the beginnings of an essay, pen ink smeared across his left palm and steadily chugging along. He can write a full essay in the span of a night, five hours for about 3,000 words but if it’s a short synopsis sort of thing then about an hour. Despite this astonishing gift, Aaron still makes himself write all his essays weeks in advance and spends days upon days proofreading and combing through them for the tiniest mistakes. He’s a straight-A student so he’s doing something right but Derek gets mostly As too with far less hastily. Aaron is just extra.

Derek steps up to the desk, doesn’t make a sound as he leans up against the side of the chair. He wraps an around Aaron’s shoulders, leans down to kiss his head. “It’s two,” Derek informs him, “come to bed. Please?” Derek’s exhausted. He feels the regret of being pulled from his warm bed. Each second feels like twenty minutes, the world sluggish and too cold. He leans closer to Aaron, wrapping himself around him. “You always smell so good,” Derek whispers. He presses his face into Aaron’s hair, catching the mix of scents.

“Bakery,” Aaron grunts. His answer as simple and concise as he always is but even more so now that he’s tired. Aaron had worked an on-campus job for the entirety of their freshman year but after he got a scholarship that would roll over each year after that (so long as he kept a certain GPA) he started at a bakery down the street from their apartment. Derek had always liked the way Aaron smelled, gently masculine in a way only Aaron could ever be, and it had mixed with the scents of softly, perfectly made baked goods he works around all day. Cookies and cakes. He’s picked up a few tricks, Aaron can make moist cakes and perfectly round cookies but his bread… It’s the best food Derek has ever eaten.

The first time Aaron made bread Derek got down on one knee and confessed “Aaron Hotchner if I could marry you I’d take you to the damn chapel right now”. To which he was lovingly pushed and told to “shut up” but fresh-baked bread (even if Aaron had taken a single bite and concluded he hadn’t ratioed the sugar right) is heavenly. He’s gotten much better since and it’s really hot when he’s standing there in one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up taking his stress out on the dough.

And he can’t tell anyone. Can’t boast about his hot ass boyfriend or the bread he makes from scratch.

Derek crouches down by the chair, knows he’s winning when Aaron breaks from his work just enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t this wait just a little bit?” he asks. “I want to sleep with my boyfriend and he’s out here writing an essay that isn’t due tomorrow and likely isn’t due for the next month.” Derek reaches up, strokes a strand of hair back behind Aaron’s ear. His fingers graze an open wound and Aaron flinches away, the pain unexpected.

The bare bones of Aaron Hotchner are the along the same in principle to Dereks-- all things that he cannot change. Even as he stands as tall as Derek, their bodies are not the same. Derek is lean from years of football, his arms stretch his shirts. He looks like an athlete, has the benefit of the doubt whenever he’s around men. His teammates walk naked in front of him, no one for even a second thinks anything of it. No one suspects him of the atrocities he commits within his apartment.

Aaron doesn’t have any of that. His hair is a little too long, hangs down in his face when he’s studying or reading. Nothing about him is hulk-ish, he’s delicate with his movements and while it had been something that Derek was immediately drawn to it also draws other’s attention. Bad attention.

The same boys that play around with Derek, snapping towels at him while he walks, terrorize Aaron.

Derek wishes there was something he could do because if this were anyone else- if Aaron were a girl- he could. It wouldn’t be dangerous, not the sort of thing that would cost him his football scholarship or get him stabbed and left to bleed out in an alley or beat within an inch of his life. He would have to out himself to protect Aaron, to stand in front of his teammates that coach keeps calling his family and tell them to keep their fucking hands off his boyfriend. No. No, because something like that would be death. It would be worse than what’s already happening. And Aaron won’t allow it.

All Derek can do now is await the next attack, leave Aaron someplace to come home to. Give him a place to be, without burden, without hesitation. It’s not enough. They’ll kill him. Derek knows they will and it’ll be fun for them, only a matter of time.

“Come to bed with me,” Derek asks one more time. He doesn’t want to sound entirely needy but he really doesn’t want to go to bed without Aaron. The bed is lonely.

With a sigh, Aaron nods and Derek stands up, moves out of the way so Aaron can throw pens in his textbooks to mark his place. He steps away, from the desks, yawning as he makes lazy lurches forward towards their bedroom. “Turn the damn--” Derek rolls his eyes and reaches over and turns off Aaron’s desk lamp.

He passes Aaron in the doorway, places his hand on his hip, and reminds him of their objective. “Bed,” he mumbles and Aaron nods, jerking back to life as he steps further into the bedroom.

Derek lays down on the bed, crawls over to his side, and gets comfortable while he watches Aaron lazily strip down to his underwear. He gets caught in his head again for a moment, standing there just blankly staring at the dresser. Trying to figure out if he should put on pajamas or not. Derek calls his name and opens his arms. “Come here, “ he says and Aaron smiles. Sheepishly he comes, blushing as he crawls into the bed and where Derek instructs him. Humming, pleased, when Derek brings the blankets up over them. His eyes are already closed, head tucked under Derek’s chin when Derek wraps his arms around him. Pulls him close, tight.

He’d read in a book about deep pressure, its effect on the parasympathetic nervous system. He’d studied Development Psychology for some time, thought about all the ways in which it checked every box of his interests. He thinks he might want to be a teacher. That’s where he learned about the importance of the bond between guardian and child. Where he learned a hug sometimes really is a fantastic answer to the most startling problems.

It’s also the fastest way to get Aaron to sleep.

“Tighter,” Aaron whispers. He can’t quite feel Derek’s bones pushing into him, the hammer of his heart still too strong. He groans, choking up a laugh when Derek does just that. Holds him tight, makes him ache with the proximity, his inability to move.

Derek doesn’t mind, he’s got an armful of bakery boy. Couldn’t be more content with anything else.

0000000000000000

All things considered, Derek didn’t actually face that much scrutiny when he told his mother about the stupid twisting and turning feeling in his stomach when Martel Harris put his hand on Derek’s back. Leaned in too close and Derek could smell the cologne he wore and feel his proximity like lightning across his skin. He’d thought it was just nerves but at the end of a football match Martel lifted him up, threw him up in the air, and God that had felt better than flying. Lit him up inside like he was something, someone.

Desiréecried and Sarah wouldn’t speak to him for a week, opposite reactions because of the same fear. Their mother always said the two of them were two halves of the same coin-- too alike to get along and too different to ever get away. They came around, their mother’s gentle hand always the voice of reason. Three stubborn as all hell kids, too much like their father. That’s what she tells the three of them, tears swelling in her eyes as she proclaims that none of it matters. Orders Desiréeto stop crying tells Sarah to get over herself. She loved and married a black man despite the death threats that followed them everywhere they went. Despite the people that called it blasphemous. Called it sin. As if love could be such a thing.

Her mother told her not to come home, not to call. She wouldn’t do that to her son, she knows it won’t change a thing. There’s something about love that makes you blind to the small pains. She never looked back twice, never reached out to her parents. She chose love and Derek will too.

But that doesn’t mean the fear goes away.

It doesn’t actually change a damn thing.

Standing in the tiny bathroom attached to Derek’s friend’s bedroom Aaron leans over the sink, letting Derek rub

shampoo through his beer-drenched hair. “I just don’t understand why they have it out for you,” Derek mumbles, his voice has deepened, his frustration laced confusion evident. They’re in a rather suggestive position, Derek’s body keeping Aaron bent over the sink-- ass to groin. Aaron shoots him a look out of the corner, a pretty clear “look at us right now and take a guess at why”. Derek ignores the look, he’s rather good at ignoring Aaron’s sharp looks. He shakes his head, grumbling some more to himself and gently working the shampoo out of Aaron’s hair. He leans closer, Aaron groaning as the sink bites into his stomach, and smells his hair. Derek groans, unsatisfied with what he finds. “Smells like strawberries with a slight undertone of beer.”

Sounds about as close to a win as they’re getting. “That’s as good as it’s going to get,” Aaron mumbles, grateful when Derek sits back up. While Aaron’s come to terms with the particular hand he’s drawn in the terms of college social lives Derek isn’t as quick to accept. He feels hopeless, a feeling he thought he’d escaped upon leaving Chicago and everything Carl Buford. Aaron can’t stand to see that look, the one he’s grown so used to seeing after events like this.

He pulls a towel down off the rack, starts trying to dry his hair. This isn’t the reason he keeps his hair short but it’s certainly a helpful addition to keep in mind. “Don’t overthink it, it’s not your fault.” Aaron could go blue in the face trying to keep Derek from coming up with a mile-long list of all the reasons why that’s simply not true. The truth is, it’s really not Derek’s fault. No one even knows about them. Their relationship isn’t the reason why Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is poured his cup of cheap, smells like piss, beer over Aaron’s head.

Not that what happened downstairs can just be so beautifully summed up as just that. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is had grabbed Aaron as he was walking in, doing as Derek instructed by coming in the screened-in door at the side of the house. “Who’s dick did you come to suck?” and Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is cupped Aaron’s cheek. Dug his thumb into the wound he created and smiled, grinned happily at the sight of Aaron trying so hard to getaway. Hunter’s grip relaxed and as soon as it did Aaron was blinking the beer out of his eyes. “Get the fuck away from me,” Hunter shoved him, hard. “Faggot.” Aaron hit his hip on the counter but said nothing, he’ll leave the bruise for Derek to find another night.

“I should say something to that pig,” Derek’s distracting himself with putting everything back in the bathroom the way it was before they came in. Straightening out the rug and fixing the other towels. “Let me catch him trying something--”

Aaron can’t take it, all of Derek’s pointless anger, his stupid guilt. He’s just had beer poured down his back. He can’t even accept Derek’s sweatshirt to replace his smelly shirt, can’t walk out of here wearing his boyfriend’s sweatshirt without getting shanked. The beer smells awful but he’s fairly certain getting stabbed is a whole lot worse. Derek doesn’t have to deal with that. No one messes with him because no one thinks to. “It’s because of how I look!” He’s shaking, bangs hanging down in his face still damp but no longer dripping water down his face. “You? You look normal. You get to walk around with all your football buddies, no one bats an eye at the quarterback, Derek. At least you like women too!” He points to himself, digs his finger into his own chest. “Me? I look the part. I can’t even pretend. Everyone knew, the whole world knew before I did!”

Derek just stands there, caught in the headlights trying to figure out what to say.

He wipes his eyes, jerks away from the hand Derek tries to put on his arm. “No. No!” he can’t do touch right now. Not like this, not when his body won’t hold still and his knees keep trying to buckle. It happens, this panicked cornered feeling, and usually Derek would hold him down. They’d sit on the floor and Derek would hold his arms down to his chest and they’d just sit like that until Aaron can breathe again. Bones against bones until Aaron feels the fractures of his humanity coming back together but for now, right now? He can’t do it. He can’t be touched.

“I want to go home,” he manages, lower lip quivering despite how much he wants to hold it together. “Please take me home.”

Derek just stares at him, stands there, and watches Aaron cross his arms over his chest and curl in, trying to squeeze the panic out himself. “Okay,” he caves. “Go on, I’ll follow you down.” It’s degrading, humiliating the fact that they can’t even leave this room together. Aaron’s upset and Derek can’t do anything about that right now. It’s not safe until they’re home.

It’s never safe.

With his hair dripping into his face Aaron stumbles in the dark. His shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his skin, and freezing him as tramples down a thin stretch of grass between houses. He wishes he had Derek’s sweatshirt. Something warm. At least something to cover his arms. It had been a stupid idea coming here right after getting off work. The bakery is so impossibly hot and after getting off his shift all he wanted was to be with Derek. To sit in whatever little room Derek could guarantee was safe and drink whatever cheap crap Derek brings him from downstairs. Just sit and listen to the music filtering in from downstairs.

“Hotchner!”

He freezes-- a deadly mistake.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

He knows what happened to Derek. In the hush of the night, laying facing each other in the dark, Derek had told him. Each word a puff of hot air against Aaron’s face, hitting the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. It was supposed to be even, Derek’s intention was to express alikeness. He’d seen the scars, no matter careful Aaron was about the light when he thought things were headed in the direction of nakedness, Derek saw them. He hadn’t said anything that time, run his thumb over the one on Aaron’s chest but kept up his ministrations. Acted as if he didn’t until that moment in bed.

Aaron still hasn’t found the courage to be honest about his own childhood.

Derek comes around the back, half-expecting tonight to go like it always does. Except Aaron hasn’t had any alcohol and he doesn’t come stumbling around the porch to greet Derek from the darkness. There are no stolen kisses or hushed laughter. No Aaron. Derek has half a mind to shout out for him, he couldn’t have gone off far, but then he sees him. Derek sees them. The moonlight shining down casting this awful hue between the houses. He sees Hunter draw his foot back and he can’t hold it back. Won’t let this go on. “Hunter!”

The second that Hunter’s attention is away from him, Aaron slumps to the ground. His blood smeared against the house. He’s still breathing, awful ragged breathes that shoot blood off his lips. He sees Derek in the moonlight, rushing past him. Aaron wishes he wasn’t a coward. Between each blood speckled breathe, he wishes that he wasn’t a coward and had just told Derek. That way he would understand Aaron can take it. He spent his childhood taking beatings for just being alive. At least now it was something coherent. Being beaten for being gay requires at least knowing something about him. His father couldn’t even bother with that.

But Derek doesn’t understand.

Aaron never told him.

He’s pulled down, out of orbit, and back to Earth when Derek squats down beside him, cradles his head in his hands. “Aaron?” he calls out, but Aaron can’t force his eyes to move from the dirt. “Can I--” Derek doesn’t know where to put his hands. If he can put his hands anywhere. “I’m going to-- to lift you, okay?” It’s not a matter of if he’s strong enough. He benches more than his own body weight and that’s significantly more than Aaron’s. He’s just not sure if Aaron’s going to fight him and if Aaron fighting him is good or bad.

“Lean forward,” Derek whispers, cupping the back of Aaron’s head and directing it into his shoulder. He turns, manipulates both their bodies and winces each time, no matter how gentle and calculated his movements are, Aaron still cries out. He still hurts him. “I’m sorry,” becomes his mantra. The only words he can manage out around the tears, the only thing he can get past the thickness in his throat.

Sorry he didn’t stop this sooner.

Sorry that he keeps hurting Aaron.

Sorry they couldn’t be other people. In other places. In another time.

Sorry that it’s all for nothing, that there’s no way this ends well for either of them. They’re going to end up dead or alone but certainly separate.

The second Derek has him in his arms Aaron grips his shirt tightly in one blood-stained hand. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, soaking in his warmth. “Home?” he asks, voice breaking.

“We’re going home.”

Aaron wakes up alone in bed.

He’s completely naked, laying with three blankets pulled up over him. One that he recognizes is from the living room. There’s one of Derek’s homemade sock heating pads digging into his sore ribs where he rolled over onto it, he can feel more of them underneath him. He’s been laying here for a while. None of the socks are warm anymore. He’s on Derek’s side of the bed, facing his nightstand, and watches Derek’s blurry alarm clock change time. 1:36 passing to 1:37 to 1:38 just waiting for the fuzzy fingers in his brain to ease up. To allow him to think.

It’s Saturday.

Derek’s off at a football game, not due back for hours. Not until tonight, long after Aaron’s gone to bed.

For an overwhelming moment, his eyes fill with tears, desperation, and solitude creating an awful twist in his stomach. He doesn’t want to be alone. Protectively he draws his knees up, tries to knot himself up, and create a mangled ball. His heart picks up, anxiety increasing as he lays there. He wants Derek. He doesn’t want to be alone.

On the phone’s first rings he curls in tighter, overwhelmed by his own crying that he presses his face into Derek’s pillow and ignores it. He’ll let the machine catch it-- that’s the whole reason Derek bought it. With a sharp end, muffled by the blanket he pulls up over his head, a voice comes through. The machine catching the voice mail.

“Aaron, sweetheart? This is Fran, Derek’s mom? I’m sorry to keep calling sweetie but Derek’s awake now. He’s worried, says you should have woken up by now. I can send Sarah to come get you, Derek told me what happened last night. Please call me back? I hope you’re okay.”

He lays in confused silence, trying to process why Derek’s mother would call him. She calls all the time and occasionally he answers to tell her she’s just missed Derek-- he’s off with friends, at the gym, or at class. They know of one another Derek talks about him to Fran as much as Derek talks about Fran to him. But Fran call him? That’s never happened.

Then he catches it-- “Derek’s awake now”-- and he sits up. Pushed from his mind is the pain, his ribs scream and the blood he can see he’s left on Derek’s pillow. Derek’s awake now. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is is on the football team. An offensive lineman. A guy whose entire job is to protect Derek but now he knows, he has to know.

Derek’s awake now.

He throws himself out of bed, clipping his already sore hip on the nightstand and staggering for the phone. Tears spilling over his face. What happened while he was sleeping? What did Hunter do?

Fran picks up on the first ring. “Aaron, is that you sweetheart?”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his finger. “Yes, ma’am.” He knows she can hear him crying, his choked sobs as he falls in the direction of the closes chair.

“You had me worried sick,” she says and he can hear that unmistakable fondness in her chastising tone. That must be where Derek gets it from. It makes him smile, even if it’s weak. “How are you feeling, baby? Derek told me what happened. I’m sorry. If I see that boy I’ll wring his neck. Give him a piece of my mind for bothering my boys.”

He just nods, despite the fact that she can’t see that. He knows he should answer her question but he has no idea what he feels. Nothing. He feels nothing as he sits here holding his breath as he waits to ask about Derek. To know what happened because of him. “Is Derek okay? What happened?”

Hunter told a few other team members what he saw. Most brushed him off, Hunters a douchebag, and they like Derek. Others just hate Aaron enough for it to matter to them, enough to what to do something. Or, rather, not do anything. It only took one tackle, a limb bent the wrong way under the weight of three boys.

It was Derek’s knee. A career-ending injury.

A scholarship losing injury.

“Can I--” Aaron chokes. He’s afraid of what happens if Fran says no. “Can I see him?”

“Of course you can.”

Aaron turns away Fran’s offer of a car ride but Desirée still shows up.

He answers the door in a sweatshirt and jeans and knows immediately who it is when he opens it up. Desirée just stares at him for a moment, he can feel all of the seventeen-year-old judgment sizing him up. “You look… awful,” she tells him. She lets herself in, walking past Aaron with one more look. “Mom says I can drive but if you want to do it I have to let you.” She puts the car keys on the counter, sighs as she looks around. “Derek says…” she chews her lip, as she sizes him up again.

He wonders how intimidating he could possibly look to her. Hunched over and wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for him.

“Would you teach me how to make bread?”

He can’t help but smile, nods without any hesitation.

“Really?”

Aaron nods, “it’s not that hard. More of a-- a waiting game. You have to give the yeast time to rise.”

Desirée has no idea what that means but she nods, “cool.”

He lets her drive. Mostly because his vision is swimming but because he tosses the keys back to her, a clear okay that she can drive, and she beams at him. She likes him. That’s so weirdly important to him.

She has to wake him up when they get to the hospital. The first thing she tells Fran is that he let her drive and Fran smiles at him, shakes her head, and says “you must have a death wish.”

Aaron blushes under the attention, eyes falling to the floor. He barely manages, “drives just like Derek.”

Fran laughs, nodding her head, “she does. Too heavy on the brakes.” Her smile fades a little when she sees Aaron’s sweatshirt, recognizes it from home. Knows it’s Dereks. “Will you let someone look at that,” she asks, too many of his wounds look deep. Cuts that need stitches and a nasty black eye that she knows he hasn’t iced. She’s reminded a little too quickly that Aaron and Derek are still very much kids. Tricky kids. Too old to be told what to do but still wanting direction.

Aaron nods, shying away again from the attention, but nods.

They leave him when the nurse steps in, doesn’t need to say a word. Fran sees him hesitate to lift his shirt and knows. Derek had managed to tell her most of what happened but the morphine made his speech slur, made him emotional. He’d sobbed, high and in pain. Told her what he’d seen the night before. Hunter hitting and kicking at Aaron, the way Aaron slumped forward. How he’d carried Aaron home. Washed the blood off him with a rag. She knew what was under Aaron’s shirt wasn’t something for them to see.

Derek wakes sometime in the middle of the night. The drugs from the surgery are wearing off and with it his blissful escape from the pain. Licking his dry lips he looks around the room, spotting his sisters and frowning as he tries to find his mother. She’s leaning over another cot, on the other side of the room. He watches her, hears the familiar chorus of Blackbird, and watches her stroke Aaron’s forehead, following the line of the relaxed brow.

It makes him smile, his mother used to sing Whitney Houston to him and his sisters to sleep. He told her about Aaron’s obsession with The Beatles, how of all the records the two of them own that’s the only one Aaron will play. Desiréebought the album, his mother told him a week later. She saved up to get it and was eager for her moment to speak to Aaron about it. To be able to befriend her brother’s boyfriend. That’s about the same time Fran began to hound him about bringing Aaron home, to Chicago. She wanted to meet him.

Fran kisses Aaron’s forehead, waiting another moment just to make sure Aaron’s truly asleep before she stands. “He was having a bad dream,” she tells Derek. In truth, he’d been crying in his sleep. In pain, she could tell, and restless. He’d settled with her there and it made her sad to think that maybe he’d just grown too used to sleeping beside someone else. She’d pulled his blankets closer and sang, just as she did with the other three when they were little. Even when they’re twenty, it still works like a charm.

Fran smiles, tries to soothe Derek’s nerves so he doesn’t worry about Aaron. He’s fine for now, sleeping soundlessly. She sits down on the edge of Derek’s bed, cups his cheek, and asks “how are you feeling?”

Derek just looks over to Aaron, his pale parted lips parted and the bandages holding him together. “Is he okay?” He’d been so scared last night watching Aaron sleep. No amount of Tylenol was doing a thing for his pain. Several times he’d sat up in the night and searched for a pulse, counted the far too many seconds separating each of his breathes. Derek thought Aaron might die right there beside him but he’d been more afraid of what might have happened if they went to the hospital.

Fran sighs, stupid love. It’s cute, she has to admit, but so senseless. “He’s sleeping, he’s okay.” She tries to redirect him, “how do you feel?”

Derek looks back over to Aaron. He looks. There’s more than just those pale lips and the bandages. It’s Aaron. He’s sleeping under multiples blankets and looks like himself. How he always looks when Derek rolls over to face him. He believes his mother, she never lies. “My leg hurts,” he whispers, voice cracking. It’s like the entire thing is pulsing, a continuous stabbing feeling. He cries but not from the pain. They betrayed him. The people he so stupidly thought of as his friends. They hurt him like they’d been hurting Aaron.

He should have known better.

He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

This is his fault.

“Derek?” Aaron sits up, hesitating under the combined attention of Derek and Fran.

Fran stands up, nods Aaron over. “Sit with him,” she offers. “I’ll go get a nurse.”

Aaron nods, still waiting, still hesitating to be where he wants to be. Derek motions him closer, manages to move his body over in the bed. Just enough room for Aaron to squeeze in beside him.

“I don’t think I”m supposed to--”

“Lay down.” Derek can see all the bruises and cuts up close again. He brushes his fingers through the hair above Aaron’s ear, turning his palm to his cheek. Gently tracing the outline of a bandage. “Runaway with me,” he whispers. He thought about it all night long while he watched Aaron sleep. “There’s only four more weeks left of the semester.” Aaron’s smart, he’ll get in anywhere he applies. “We’ll transfer someplace else, anywhere else.”

Aaron frowns, he doesn’t like the idea of this impulsivity. Mostly the number of uncertainties that it creates and the questions. Where will they go? How will they know it’s safe? Are they dropping out? Where will they transfer to? What Aaron can’t get into the college that Derek does?

“Hey,” Derek hushes, he strokes his thumb across Aaron’s cheekbone. “Hey, whatever you’re thinking stop. I’m not leaving, not going anywhere you don’t. We do this together, alright?” He smiles, leans forward, and softly knocks their foreheads together. “Four weeks and all of summer break, okay? That’s plenty of time for a smarty pants like you to figure out where we can go.” It had taken less time for Aaron to conclude Illinois was close enough to home for him to go if something happened to his mother but too far away for her or his brother to come to him.

They’ll figure it out.

“Runaway with me?” he asks one more time.

“Okay.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #mortch #hurt hotch #tw homophobia

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Modern AU: "Lilies"

Severus knows Lily is dead before James comes by to tell him. How, you ask?

Well, because she shows up in his kitchen on Sunday morning, translucent, to yell at him about his life choices.

Severus is living in a rundown old white house that he used to share with his wife Lily. She left him for James, a musician travelling with the other half of his duo act, Sirius. Last Severus heard, the two of them are world famous and Lily and James have had a son named Harry.

As it happened, five years ago James and Sirius had come to town for Sirius to reconnect with his little brother, Regulus. As they had a falling out and a difference of opinion regarding their parentage, their relationship remained just as strained and cold as it had always been despite Sirius’ best efforts. While James spent most of the visit having a smoky and lazy affair with Regulus, he met Lily at the grocery store one day and it was love at first sight. She’d left Severus a month later, choosing to travel the world with James, and had had Harry within the year.

During this visit, Remus, who had been married to Tonks at the time with a child on the way, had fallen deeply in love with Sirius, but had broken Sirius’ heart when he chose to keep his marriage vows rather than run away with him. Sirius tried to keep in touch with Remus after he and James left, but Remus never replied, though Sirius never stopped sending letters. Remus’ wife died two weeks after their son Teddy’s premature birth from complications, and Teddy followed in the hours after. Overwhelmed with grief, Remus shut himself away, only going out for work and to drink. The night he got fired from his job as a teacher, he drank so much he got into an accident on his way home, and is now confined to a wheelchair. That, paired with his self-inflicted scars and depression, led to a suicide attempt that Severus saved him from. Now, Remus is still a recluse, though he now works as a librarian, volunteers at the orphanage, and takes the time to have tea with Severus every day.

Severus grows lilies in his garden in memory of his wife, and nearly dies of a heart attack when her ghost shows up in his kitchen one Sunday morning. She yells at him about throwing away his life for her when she was clearly never worth it and Severus yells back at her for leaving him. But while their new living arrangement is a bit stiff, they remember why they loved each other well enough, so they get on fine, though Lily still cries about missing James and Harry nearly every day.

James shows up in town about a week later with Sirus and Harry in tow, saying he came to deliver a letter Lily left Severus upon her death, since she’d been sick for a long time. Severus invites them in for tea, because he’s British and he’s polite, and Sirius spends most of the time staring at Remus’ house through the window and asking questions about him. James holds Harry on his lap while Lily’s ghost fusses over both of them, though neither of them can see or hear her. Severus still hates James for stealing his wife, but it’s faded into a dull ache by now, especially as seeing James is now a single father, though James does assure him that since Sirius is his partner, Harry will be far from alone.

Though originally only planning to stay long enough to deliver the letter, James decides to stick around for a bit for unspecified reasons. (It’s not because Sirius and Remus both just smiled stupidly at each other for five gay minutes when they were reunited. Of course not.) As he usually leaves Sirius with Remus for the two of them to catch up, James takes to leaving Harry with Severus when he becomes too overwhelmed with grief to take care of him. Severus grows fond of the boy, and often translates Lily’s stories for him since Harry can’t see his mother the same way Severus can.

James tries to patch up his relationship with Regulus, but Regulus is not hearing of it, feeling abandoned and hurt since James left him for Lily. This does however make him more perceptible to Sirius, who is delighted to have his little brother back in his life, though his strained and shy relationship with Remus is wearing on him. Regulus tells James and Sirius that he had a partner, Amir, who died in a home break-in and Regulus, who is trans, suffered a miscarriage of their daughter upon hearing the news. Severus and Remus take care of him, though their own unstable mental states make it difficult some days. Working at the library with Remus helps, he says, but still refuses to speak to James and is tolerating but far from welcoming of Sirius. Only at Severus’ advice that he would be a far happier person if he just allowed Sirius into his life does Regulus begin to open up towards both his brother and his brother’s partner.

James stays at Severus’ house per Lily’s request, and Harry grows quite attached to Severus. Remus begins to spend more and more time with Severus, growing increasingly anxious about his strenuous relationship with Sirius. Lily and Severus begin to slip back into a domestic relationship even though she’s a ghost, and Severus tells Remus about it, believing he’s going crazy. Remus shrugs and says he still hears Teddy crying sometimes.

As times passes, James and Severus slip into a limbo of sorts. As James has become increasingly close to Remus through Sirius, they spend more time together than ever before, and end up falling for each other in their shared grief. Still, despite their unofficial connection, Severus encourages Regulus’ feelings for James, believing them the better match and hoping Regulus can find some sort of happiness after all the shit he’s been through. Unfortunately, this all comes to a head when one day Sirius and Remus break up in an explosive fight, leading James to leave with Sirius and Harry in tow. Severus bids them a bitter goodbye and settles into taking care of Remus and Regulus, both of whom are now far more broken than they were before.

Remus tries to kill himself again. Severus is alerted to this by Lily, who has been doting on Remus since finding out about his and Sirius’ love for each other. Severus races Remus to the hospital, getting him there just in time. Regulus is beside himself, and Severus calls James using the hospital phone, saying he thought he and Sirius should know. James hangs up on him, but shows up in the waiting room with Sirius and Harry three hours later. Severus offers to drive James home, since only family can stay and no one is doubting that Sirius is Remus’ husband even if there are no papers to prove it, and by his rights, Regulus is allowed to stay as well. On the way back to Severus’ house they have a conversation about their feelings for each other, though Severus continues to insist that James choose Regulus instead of him. This evolves into a shouting match until their attention is so far from the road that a semi crashes into them, gravely injuring Severus and hurting James severely, though Harry remains unharmed save a few cuts and bruises. James breaks down over Severus’ body, trying desperately to call 9-1-1, but it’s no use. Severus passes away in Lily’s ghostly arms, James’ screams still echoing in his ears.

Severus wakes up in his house, surrounded by the things Lily destroyed in her anger at him and James over the past few months. Lily is pressing kisses all over his face and crying, explaining that he’s a ghost now too, and stuck with her forever. Severus comments that he doesn’t think that’s too bad, and Lily slaps him but laughs anyway, drawing him into a kiss. They stay wrapped up in each other until James shows up at the house with Harry, sobbing and sagging to the ground in the doorway as both Lily and Severus wrap themselves around him, whispering, “Oh, Jamie…”

Sirius is trying to take care of James and Harry, but he’s pretty much a wreck himself, having been sleeping with a record number of men since his and Remus’ break-up and drinking and smoking his problems away. He’s been writing in manic frenzies, mostly songs about unrequited love, and has spent the rest of his time enduring depressive slumps. Remus is released from the hospital and tries to help him, but is struggling to deal with the loss of Severus, even if he has Sirius back.

Regulus begins to shoulder much of the responsibility of James’ care. He watches over James while Sirius and Remus watch over each other, and comes to care for Harry like a son. Sirius loves him for it, and does his best to pitch in where he can. Though his trust issues and grief are incapacitating, Sirius starts to rebuild his relationship with Remus, this time on a solid foundation of trust and truth, though it takes time. He begins to understand, through their conversations about both of the times they fell in love, why Remus chose to stay with Tonks despite his heart belonging to Sirius, and comes to a new understanding of Lily’s choice of James, as she was already pregnant with Harry by the time she left Severus, and in the minds of parents, children come first. Severus is a bit heartbroken to learn that Lily had cheated on him, but is too tired to truly be angry, and tells Lily it’s in the past now. She smiles at him and kisses his cheek.

James, meanwhile, is working himself into a downward spiral. He’s wondered for years whether Lily ever really loved him like he loved her or if she just chose him because of Harry, and he’s also felt terribly guilty for stealing her from Severus no matter how much he loved her. While he tried to treat Severus right, he knew it was a failed pipe dream from the beginning, as he could never truly keep his heart from Regulus’ delicate hands. Severus and Lily both try to speak with him, but in vain, as he cannot see them.

The ghosts try to take care of Harry, though he can’t see them either. As it comes to be, Sirius and Remus rebuild themselves and each other enough to give Harry and James a stable home. Their partnership with James gives him the strength to keep going, and he begins to make things right with Regulus, who seems happier these days despite all his sadness. As the years pass, Severus and Lily watch their family grow. Sirius and Remus marry, adopting four children from the orphanage where Remus volunteers: Luna, Hermione, Newt, and Draco. They and Harry make friends with the Wealsey children from down the street, and James marries Regulus in a quiet ceremony shortly after tying himself to Sirius and Remus permanently. Lily’s body is moved to their town and buried beside Severus, and the two ghosts settle down in their graves, willingly passing on.

And in case you were wondering… (which I know you’re not)

Remus makes Sirius quit smoking. He and James give up their famous lifestyle for their spouses and children, settling in the town where this all began. Sirius and Regulus build a strong relationship that does not fray or break any longer. Sirius is Harry’s second favorite person after James, and Harry makes Remus take him to visit Severus and Lily’s graves at least three times every year. Sirius loves Remus a lot, but that’s okay, because Remus loves Sirius a lot too.

Sirius is James’ favorite person and he loves him so fucking much - Remus too. He misses Severus and Lily every day, but he’s got their son and the flowers to remember them by. He thinks maybe he could have a Happily Ever After here, maybe. If the world stands still long enough.

Meanwhile, Peter has lived in a homeless shelter since he got dumped by his ex-wife Mary, who is a kindergarten teacher now dating Dorcas the karate teacher and Marlene the bartender. He meets Max and their son Seamus there and falls in love with Max immediately, eventually building a home with them on a generous gift from Sirius that allows him to start up his own bakery. Though Remus offers to put him up every time he visits, Peter always refuses, though he bakes him plenty of thank you muffins once he’s out. James comes to Peter for advice about all of his relationships, and Peter indulges him every time, though really he just wants to bake cookies and sleep. Peter is the happiest person in this story how is that possible

Mcgonogall is the head librarian who listens to hard rock and has her wards (Sirius, Remus, and James) over for tea when she needs to give any of them a swift kick in the rump for their stupid life decisions. Dumbledore and Grindelwald are a married couple who grow petunias in their garden and live next to Mcgonogall, since she and Dumbledore are partners. Grindelwald glares at everyone and everything and Dumbledore hums Beatles songs under his breath off-key and brings an open umbrella on his walks on sunny days, so yeah. The Weasleys are the nutcases who run the orphanage and the homeless shelter, Peggy Schuyler is Newt’s best friend and a schoolmate of the children’s, and life is alright.

Yeah I don’t know what this is either.

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jiminsfault · 4 years

Text

❥ pairing: Jungkook x reader

❥ genre: non-idol!au, nc17 / fluff, the tiniest amount of smut, a bit of crack, romance

❥ word count: 7.5k

❥ summary: Jimin wanted to play matchmaker and you fell right into his love trap.

❥ warnings: a lot of sexual comments, Reader has a fixation on hygiene?, Jimin is gay, side Yoonmin (it’s not really much but present), sexual tension, Jungkook probably has a Noona kink, use of korean honorifics (only a bit), Reader is super awkward, Jungkook is gonna steal your heart, more sexual tension, Jungkook knows tiktok, making out, kisses, it gets heated a bit, a lot of love, shy boy!Jungkook, more love

❥ thank you for this great header heathy! @shadowsremedy uwu

“Hey, uhm. Could you…,” Jimin started his sentence next to you, lying on your couch, “would you go on a date with me?”

You just sipped on your glass of coke, hearing this, you almost spat it out. With wide eyes you turned towards him and couldn’t keep your mouth closed, once you gulped the drink down. “No?” He asked, seeing your reaction. His tone was questioning and he had eyes just as big as you had.

“No. What the fuck, Jimin? Why would I go on a date with you? Like, ever,” you rolled your eyes, looking at him with disgust. Not to misunderstand, Jimin was handsome and funny, always there for you when you needed him. He encouraged you to go out and meet people and sat through movies with you, when you needed to cry about the boy who broke your heart.

But that’s exactly why you wouldn’t ever go on a date with him. Jimin was your best friend ever since high school, when he sat down next to you, a new student from Busan and just moved to seoul. He didn’t know anybody but when he sat down next to you, you smiled at him and explained to him what the class was about. Ever since then, you both were like paper and glue, sticking together for whatever troubles you had. You know too much about the guy, couldn’t ever see him in a romantic way. Plus, he’s gay, so.

Jimin rolled his eyes, too, sitting up and throwing all the crumbs from his chips onto your couch. He’s going to be cleaning this. “No you dummy, not like that. Just accompany me out with two guys and-”

“I will not have a foursome with you and some random dudes you found on Grindr!” You screeched, holding your pointer finger up and successfully stopping him from speaking.

“Can you shut up for a second? I don’t ever wanna see you when you get down and dirty with someone. You can keep that for yourself, I already had to find your vibrator,” shaking his head, he shuddered at the memory, “that was enough trauma.”

“I’m trying to tell you, it’s kind of like a double date. Except, the two dudes don’t know that yet. I really wanna fuck this one guy but he didn’t get the memo so he invited his friend when I said we could meet up sometime.” Another eye roll while he threw a chip up in the air and caught it with his mouth. He continued to speak, while chewing, making you cringe at his disgusting behavior. “His name’s Jungkook, the friend of his. You’re gonna come with and distract him from me and my snack. I just want some alone time to make him my sl-”

You held your hand up again, looking away. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “Fine, okay. If I come along, what’s in it for me? I have to spend my evening with some rando, getting him away from his friend? What if that dude doesn’t want to be alone with you?” Your face gave your doubt away, looking Jimin up and down.

“That’s the thing, Y/N. He doesn’t know that he wants to be alone with me yet. After that evening, when he realized what good of a catch I am, he definitely won’t get enough of some good alone time.” You scoffed, when he wiggled his eyebrows up and down. Reaching forward, you snatched the bag of chips from him and ate some yourself. “And what’s in it for you, my sweet darling? Jungkook’s fucking hot, too. I’d want to bite his ass, but he’s straight as an arrow.”

He fake pouted, shortly after his devilish smirk came out because he could tell that you were considering it. “Do you have a picture? I’m not gonna let you trick me like last time,” the trust you once had in him to hook you up with someone was long gone after he told you he’d found the man of your dreams, until the guy turned out to look like he drank beer for fifty years and hadn’t showered for much longer.

“No, but I can describe him?” You tsked, standing up from the couch and going to the bathroom. Jimin could lie to you all he wants, you’re not gonna waste your time with this. “C’mon! Help me get some ass! Please!”

You snickered as he wailed in the living room, already having decided to help your friend out a little. But he didn’t need to know that just yet, teasing Jimin was too much fun.

“So you’re sure this guy won’t be a creep?” You checked back in with Jimin for the nth time. He could never be trusted when he was trying to get into some dude’s pants.

“Yes, Y/N. I’m a hundred percent sure and if I’m lying, you can absolutely cut off my balls and serve them for breakfast, yeah?” It was laced with humor and he side eyed you from the passenger's seat in your car. Breathing out, heavy with annoyance, you nodded.

This couldn’t be the worst, you supposed. “What happens if you and your twinky hit off and y’all wanna leave? Am I supposed to stay with this Jungkook guy?”

“He’s not a twink, Y/N. You’ll see, Yoongi is really nice!” His voice reached high ends and you scrunched up your nose. Even though you dressed up in a deep blue dress that was bordering on mid thigh, with your favorite heels, comfortable but still chic, you were full of doubts. Yes, a movie with Jimin and additional possible friends would be nice, but the risk of an unhygienic or rude date is still present.

“I can smell your worries,” Jimin said. You looked at him quickly and saw that he was watching you intently. “Jungkook really is a nice guy. He’s younger than you but he got his manners. And he’s a smart one,” he went on about your date for the rest of the way to the cinema and once you parked the car, he finally stopped talking.

“If you’re lying, prepare your balls,” you threatened, looking at him with sharp eyes. He nodded with a smirk and jumped out of your car.

You followed him, linking your arm with his after he waited for you and together you walked towards the entrance of the cinema. Inside, the entrance hall was bustling with people buying tickets and snacks, walking to the assigned rooms to watch movies. Children were running around and groups of teenagers filled the ticket box office.

Jimin already went to complain about how long they’d have to wait but then a guy approached. He had black hair, was about the same size as Jimin but had a bit of a smaller frame. His face was feline like and he seemed to know exactly who to talk to. “Jimin?” His voice sounded when he was only a few steps away and with a happy noise, your friend let go of your arm and fell into the arms of the man.

“Yoongi! How are you, where’s Jungkook?” He blabbered quickly, laying his arm around this Yoongi’s shoulders. Now that you thought about it, you never asked how Jimin met this guy. When they were closer to you, you smiled at Yoongi and introduced yourself. He seemed a bit shy, shrinking into Jimin’s frame when he greeted you. It was cute and suddenly you knew exactly why Jimin was so keen on meeting him.

“Jungkook is getting us popcorn, one sweet, one salty because we didn’t know what you guys preferred. Also drinks, I hope coke is fine?”

Jimin and you both agreed and once the both of them started conversation, you started to look around more. They seemed to get along well, why were you even here? And where is this Jungkook? The snack checkout was still full with people and considering the lack of knowledge you had about his looks except ‘he’s handsome’, your searching was hopeless.

You decided to grab your phone out of your small purse, checking the time only to see that the movie should start in about ten minutes. “Guys, why don’t we buy the tickets? We’ll miss the start if we wait longer,” you trailed while you still looked at your phone, overlooking the messages a group chat sent.

“Already taken care of,” a smooth voice announced from behind you. It caught you off guard, so you shrieked a bit and clutched your hands to your chest. A giggle was heard and shortly after, the person to the voice stood next to you, hands full with popcorn and drinks. The two men across you, still in conversation, took a drink each, Jimin holding a popcorn bag as well. “You must be Y/N, yeah? I’m Jungkook,” he said. Once you finally looked at his face, he was quite tall so you had to look high up, you saw a very handsome face.

He had perky and cute lips that seemed strawberry pink, a small mole underneath and his smile was cheeky and adorable. With his smile came bunched up cheeks and his eyes seemed to carry his happiness. The light brown hair was partly over his forehead, a small gap let you see a bit of his eyebrows, strong and dark. His frame was wide, muscly it seemed. He was wearing a jeans jacket with a white shirt underneath and ripped pants that hugged his wonderfully thick thighs. Was he a god or something?

Everyone noticed your quietness and to cover the awkward pause in conversation, Jimin laughed and went in to hug Jungkook. “Nice to see you! Yoongi told me a bunch about you. This here is Y/N, she can be a bit shy around new people,” he made show to hold your shoulders and make you look at him. Your cheeks glowed up with heat and an embarrassed laugh made it out from between your lips.

“It’s fine, I’m sure we can get used to each other inside,” Jungkook said with a friendly tone and you were glad that this was all that was needed for the small group to get moving. Jimin trailed in front with an arm draped around Yoongi’s waist and he looked back to wink at you. “C’mon, don’t wanna miss the ads, huh?”

This Jungkook really had an effect on you like no one else did. For god’s sake, you were older than this guy and you acted like a schoolgirl. Get a grip, Y/N!

With a heavy intake of breath, packing your phone back into your purse, you walked towards the three that were already a bit up the stairs. Arriving next to your date for the evening, you looked at his side profile. “Should I take something from that?” Pointing to the drinks and the bag of popcorn in his arms, you kept looking at him, between glancing down to make sure you didn’t miss the final step and walked behind Jimin and Yoongi. Did they even know which room the movie was playing?

“I got it, thanks,” he said, smiling down at you. Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “You’re a year older than me, right?” His question confused you a bit, after not much conversation he brought up age in an awfully weird way.

“Uhm… yeah, I think so? Jimin said I’m older than you, so,” you shrugged your shoulders and looked in front of you, walking through the doors of hall D. You saw your friend and his company walking up towards line 47 and they sat down on seat 4 and 5. “Do I go past them or do we sit here?”

You pointed at the seats 2 and 3 and looked at Jungkook. He scrunched his nose and you could see his eyes smile again. Nodding his head to the seats you were pointing at, he sat down shortly after you did too. He sat next to Yoongi, which made you be the furthest from your friend and slightly on edge. Jimin said he’d be with you until you were comfortable, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to be on your own with Jungkook.

The room was already dimmed down, the ads weren’t playing yet, so it was still relatively bright for a cinema. “Which popcorn do guys have?” Jimin asked from the end of your small row. Jungkook grabbed one popcorn and held it in front of you, looking at you with a grin.

“Find it out?” You gulped, raising your hand to grab the flake, but Jungkook held it closer to your mouth, making you open your mouth and taking it from his fingers with your lips. They touched the tips of his fingers briefly and you felt a spark of warmth in your belly, as well as your face. He still looked at you closely and didn’t waver from your face, meanwhile you looked sideways towards the screen to avoid his eyes. You munched the popped kernel and licked your lips.

“Salt,” you stated, shyly looking at the still smiling man who now nodded. Jimin could’ve just tried his own popcorn to find out that they had the sweet one. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at your lap. Why did he tell you to dress up? Jungkook was only wearing a jeans jacket and Jimin himself wasn’t that dolled up either.

Gnawing on your lip, you blended their voices out, only to be poked at your shoulder. You looked over, noticing that Jungkook probably tried to talk to you. “Is salt fine with you?” You nodded, calming yourself down. Right when he put your drink in front of you to have it, the lights got turned off.

“Oh no, now I can’t see the holder,” you murmured more to yourself. You clumsily tried to place your drink into the round plastic on your seat to your left but almost dropped the cup. Hissing out a curse, you tried again but failed. Suddenly you saw through your peripheral vision that Jungkook moving next to you, leaning across your body and taking your cup from your hold, finding the holder and sitting back into his seat. Stunned, you were glued to your place. Your breath was quick, Jungkook smelled nice and the way he leaned over you and completely covered you made you a bit unconcentrated. The advertisements started blaring out of the speakers but people were still talking, chewing their snacks and slurping their drinks.

“Noona,” Jungkook suddenly murmured right next to your ear. You felt his breath on your cheek and his presence was so hard to ignore. “Are you fine? You seem uncomfortable,” he continued, voice laced with obvious worry.

You looked to your side, making his face out with the light of the screen in front. It was close but he kept his distance once you faced him. “I’m a little nervous,” you whispered honestly. “And I’m overdressed.”

He giggled cutely, looking at the screen for a moment, where a movie trailer was now playing, but turned back to you. “Maybe a bit,” he admitted. He paused, seeming to think about his words. “But you look really pretty, Noona.”

He turned his head slightly to the side and smiled at you, fumbling around with your purse in your lap and avoiding his gaze. The cinema filled even more up and before the advertisements were fully over, there sat a man right in your viewpoint. A very tall man. You huffed, going left and right to see over his head, but to really see something, you’d have to lean over Jungkook. Taking a glance at him, he was casually talking with Yoongi and Jimin, they had picked a conversation up while you were busy. Munching a bit on the popcorn and sipping from his drink, he looked almost cute, wouldn’t he be so attractive that you couldn’t cope. His jeans jacket was still on and he spread his legs, slouching a bit in the seat to get comfortable. You usually hated it when men took up space like this. Jimin constantly did it to get on your nerves and if you would have half a mind, you’d see that he’s doing it tonight as well. Something about the way Jungkook made it look like changed your mind. It was suddenly not as gross, you’d rather get a personal feel for the meaty legs and the man was so attractive, you were sure his body had to be as well.

With a quick look to his side, he noticed you stopped squirming. But when he looked at the head in front of you, he could tell that it still very much blocked your view. Rasping his throat to prepare, he leaned over to you and came close, “do you want us to switch seats? I can probably look over him.” You jumped, slouching into your form and when you looked to your right, you saw that Jungkook was ready to stand up.

“No, it’s fine,” you whispered, laying a hand on his wrist that was nearest to you. He looked at the contact and you spluttered, realising your touch. He looked up, the dim lighting making it hard to really read his expression. With an audible sigh, he gave up the advance of switching seats, but still wanted to help you.

“Excuse me, Sir?” He leaned forwards a bit. The man in front of you turned over and looked at him, demanding what was the problem. “My girlfriend can’t really see with you in the view, would you mind scooting up the row two seats? It doesn’t seem like more people will come.”

You covered your face, wanting to disappear. Jungkook couldn’t just talk to a stranger like this, calling you his girlfriend. But to your surprise, the man nodded, smiling friendly and saying that he figured it should be alright, switching seats and then checking back that everyone could see. With gaping eyes, you looked to your seat neighbor and shook your head slowly. He grinned at you and leaned back, starting a conversation over how great he is, sarcasm obvious in his tone, but you still agreed wholeheartedly.

The movie started, the lights got even lower and you finally could lean back and relax. Until you realized one crucial thing, Jimin lied to you once again. The little fucker would get some nice bruises once you were done with him, he picked out a horror movie without telling you. In fact, you thought you were here to watch a family friendly animated movie, not something about dead dolls. He probably just wants his twink to be scared and hide in his arms and yet you have to suffer through it.

You tried to hold in your screams and whimpers at the first scary scenes, but Jungkook still noticed the stiffening of your posture and the small shrieks you let out. Without you even really noticing, he pulled you close and whispered in your ear, “you scared?” Nodding, you looked at him with terror in your eyes and he chuckled deep in his chest. You felt it through his jacket, your shoulder at his front. At the opportunity, you looked at the men next to Jungkook. Yoongi was laying in Jimin’s arms, hiding his face in his neck when the screen gave away jump scares and shrill noises.

“You can hold onto me, if it helps?” Jungkook suggested. At this point, you were willing to try anything. So you clutched onto Jungkook’s upper arm, pulling him a bit in front of you to hide behind his shoulder when the music started to build up.

As you left the movie hall, credits rolled and popcorn collected, you staggered out into the light and took in a big breath of air. You survived. Never in your life had you regretted meeting Jimin this much, the guy still had the nerve to laugh at you and mimic your shocked eyes. Yoongi giggled next to him, seemingly more attached than before the movie and you asked yourself if you really were needed to give them privacy.

“I think I’ll go to the bathroom, too. The ride home will be long,” Yoongi trailed, pointing behind him as he started walking backwards. Jimin nodded, waving cutely and turning back to you. Jungkook attended the bathroom as well, which made you wait on them now.

With a cheeky grin, Jimin looked at you expecting. “So? What do you think about Jungkook?” Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him, in search for the nearest chair to sit on.

“Jimin, I have an assumption and if I’m right about it, I’ll kill you.” The seriousness in your tone made him press his lips together and look at you. “You and Yoongi know each other well enough already, yeah?”

Your friend tried to avoid looking at you, moving from foot to foot and laughing nervously. “Well,” he started, puffing his cheeks with air. “We do know each other, but we don’t fuck! Yet. He never took my flirting seriously, which is why he invited a friend when I asked him out.”

He looked at you with puppy eyes, making you sigh. “But there was more behind me joining tonight, right? This seems like a setup.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you looked behind Jimin to see when one of the others came back. Your friend bit his lip, slowly nodding.

“Y/N, I know Jungkook, so I know that he’s such a great guy for you. When Yoongi said he’ll bring a friend, I asked him to bring Jungkook,” he admitted. “Getting you out of your room has been hard enough for a few weeks now, but you rarely meet guys. You always cry about your ex and that you’d never find the right one, so…,” he trailed off.

“So you took it into your own hands and made me come here, dolled up like this? You chose a horror movie, how cliché of you. The seats?” The wild guesses made Jimin squirm, you catching his plan head on and exposing him.

“Give him a chance, Y/N. He saw pictures of you and I told him a bunch, he thinks you’re really cute and Yoongi probably listens to him swoon about you right now! Nobody takes this long for a wee.” You laughed weakly, not knowing what to think of this.

Exhaling, you looked at Jimin for a long, quiet pause. “He’s really cute,” you said with finality. He made a show of fist bumping the air and congratulating himself. “But you can’t just play matchmaker with me.” The guilty look was back on again, puppy eyes and wobbly lip.

“Y/N, but you like him, right? Will you see him again?” He said in his baby voice. You laughed at this, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “No, really, will you?”

You had to think about that. Jungkook was handsome, smelled good, his hair seemed washed. He looks like he’s hygienic and he was really nice to you as well. Funny, in his own way and he helped you out multiple times. He flirted with you, too. It was a good date, after the awkward beginnings you felt comfortable and he was ready to protect you from the scary figures on screen. While contemplating all this, you bit on your lip and looked at your feet, not noticing the arrival of your company.

“I think I will, actually,” you started, raising your head until you saw Yoongi next to Jimin and realized Jungkook’s presence next to you. For the nth time tonight, blush rose to your face and ears, averting your eyes.

Jimin, not getting enough of teasing you tonight, started to smirk at his newest plot against you. “Hey, why don’t I come back to yours?” He turned to Yoongi, wiggling his eyebrows twice and laying his hand on his date’s waist. He made a noise of thinking before checking in with Jungkook, agreeing to Jimin’s suggestion afterwards. With horror in your eyes, you saw Jimin wave at you and Jungkook, faking worry and playing his act of, “I hope it doesn’t bother you to drive with Y/N?”

Watching the two descend down the stairs, heads disappearing, you turned to look at Jungkook, who already watched you. “What do you think you will?” The question seemed like he waited the whole conversation out to ask and you couldn’t keep eye contact with his intense stare on you.

“Ah, just… Jimin asked if I’ll study tonight!” You exclaimed, moving to jump off the chair but Jungkook stood in front of you, blocking the way.

“Did you enjoy tonight enough to meet me again?” He asked, his voice a tone darker than it was before and when you looked up at him, you couldn’t focus on just one feature of his. His broad frame covered you completely once again and his smell invaded your senses. Feeling a bit dizzy, you put your hand on his biceps. He felt your apprehensiveness and held you by your waist to support you.

Being shy about this kind of thing, you looked down and nodded quickly. “Yeah, I…,” you started, looking up again and being assured with the way his eyes didn’t waver from your form, “I’d really like that.” He smiled, nodding slowly and helping you get down from the high chair.

“So, can I ask you for your number, then?” He was blushing a bit himself, touching his ear when he waited for you to tap your digits into his phone. He promised to text you soon, said he couldn’t wait to meet you again and asked you all kinds of questions to find out what date idea you liked most.

In the end, he had a few ideas that he wrote down and said he needed some more time to think about it. You giggled at his cute behavior, asking him to lead the way for his place, once you were in the car. He helped you navigate and thanked you for getting him home, wishing you a good night and a safe drive back to your place. You nodded and reminded him of texting you, hearing a ping only moments after he closed the car door to walk the driveway up.

Checking your phone, you chuckled when you saw a message by an unknown number, ‘how soon can you see me again?’

It turned out to be very soon, actually. Just the next week, Jungkook organized a date for the two of you, keeping it a secret where exactly he’ll be taking you. He told you to wear casual clothing, just a simple outfit and no heels. He teased you to not overdress again and you actually screamed. Getting your point across that it was Jimin’s fault was hard when Jungkook was cocky enough to assume you wanted to lure him in.

But on the same friday, Jungkook picked you up with his truck, greeting you with his bright smile and congratulating you on the fitting clothes. He received your famous eye roll and off you went, onto the road.

The ride wasn’t long, Jungkook assured you that it’s around the city and that it’ll be fun. You decided to trust him, waiting to arrive wherever he takes you. Talking to him came easy, over the last week you texted a lot and got acquainted enough to be comfortable around him and tell stories to fill the car. His music taste was exceptional and he promised to make you a playlist soon.

When he turned the corner into a parking lot, you looked around. “Where are we?” You asked, confused because there was no obvious sign hung on the house you were in front.

“You’ll see,” he said, smile steady on his face as he left the car and walked towards the house, your steps close behind him. Jungkook rung a bell, next to it was a handwritten name but the door opened quickly, not giving you time to figure the letters out.

“Jungkook,” you said quietly, looking at him from where he stood three stairs above you. He looked down at you with a quizzed face, leaning his head to the side. “This isn’t some spooky stuff, right?” You furrowed your brows as you hesitated.

He let out an airy laugh, “no, don’t worry, Noona.” He winked at you, not very smooth since he ultimately blinked but it was cute, so you let it slide. Just opening your mouth to repeat the response to the title he used, that you had messaged him a few times now, he mocked in a high tone, “it’s just one year!”

You shook your head, following after him as he walked up two floors. “Pottery?” You asked confused once you saw a sign on the door you halted in front of. He didn’t include that in any of the ideas over the last week, so it took you off guard. Not pegging him for the type, you looked at him as he opened the door that was left open by whoever owned this.

“Yeah, pottery. Jimin told me you never tried it, so I figured we could learn something,” he trailed, walking inside the open room where a register stood with a woman behind and a few people walking around. “Hello, I called,” he greeted the woman behind the desk. “Jeon Jungkook?”

The receptionist nodded, making a noise of understanding as she scrolled through the computer in front of her. “Yes, there it is. Room 3, it’s right to the left once you lead the hallway.” He nodded, looking where she pointed and after you greeted the woman yourself, the both of you walked towards where she instructed.

“C’mere, you’re so slow,” Jungkook teased as he looked back at you and stood in the room. You grumbled something about your short legs, he couldn’t hear everything, but laughed his heart out at your grumpy face.

“Do we do this alone? Aren’t we getting instructions on what to do?” You threw into the almost empty room. There were stools and round tables, you figured they were where you could do the pottery. On the side of the room was a table with already made cups and bowls that were drying and next to them sat black plastic boxes. “What’s in these boxes?”

Before he could take a guess, you walked to them and opened one, seeing clay inside. “Ooh, so this,” you grabbed a clump, “is what we use?” He chuckled at your many questions as he sat on one of the stools in front of a table.

“Bring it here and let’s do this,” he grinned. Taking the clump, you dropped it on his table and went back to close the door, figuring that you really wouldn’t have an instructor. You sat down on the other stool, scooting it closer to Jungkook to watch what he was doing. “My knowledge about this is limited to tiktoks and youtube videos, I’m just saying,” he warned, serious look on his face until it cracked.

He dipped his hands in a water bowl that stood next to him on the floor, tapping the chunk of clay and applying pressure. When it worked, both your eyes were wide and you made a sound of amazement. After he made a high pole, he pressed it down and used his thumbs to make a hole and rounded his hands to cup the outside, bringing it into a circled form. “I’m making a cup!!”

You continued watching him for a bit and then decided to get working yourself, getting clay from the boxes and patting the mass, forming it up, pressing down but…, “my clump doesn’t like me.”

You looked over at Jungkook with a pout and presented the flat cake of wet clay, a small dent where your thumbs sat. He giggled, standing up and putting his chair next to yours, much closer than before. “Gimme your hands, let me lead,” he said, holding his hands, that were full of clay, in front of you and waiting for your smaller ones. “Now that I’m thinking of it, we should’ve covered our clothes with something,” he thought out loud. It broke the tension that started to build and let you laugh about him freely.

Now that he leaned over your shoulder and held your hands in his to help you form the clay, it seemed like the spinning mass was playing just a side character. His incredibly good scent rose up to your nose again, filling your thoughts of him and his much bigger frame. The way he leaned over you and you felt his hair tickle your ear, sometimes feeling his cold earring on your cheek when he leaned even more in, was intense for you. Thinking was hard when all your brain could process was him.

Just when he managed to archive the cup form, your thoughts stopped being foggy, brain clearing up a bit. “Look at us, we’re out here making cups! Look at this,” he almost roared, excitement clear. His arms were tight around you and he wiggled you with him, holding your hands in his, all full of clay. You cheered too, trying to turn your head to look at his smile. But suddenly, he seemed even closer, immediately looking into your eyes and you gulped, feeling the heat rise to your neck and face. You stuttered back, making him stand up and removing his arms from around you.

“We should uhm, wash our hands,” you said, stiff and shy. He nodded and added that the hour was almost over and you’d need to be out of the room anyway. “What about our cups?” You asked, puppy eyes on display and almost speaking in a high, watery tone. He chuckled, assuring you that he can get them once they call him. When you left the room, you not only found a washroom but the woman who owned this place. She greeted you and asked if you had a good time, mentioning that they will put your cups out to dry and can either pick them up or come and paint them too. With hopeful eyes you looked up at Jungkook and without even seeing your pleading face, he agreed that you definitely had to paint them.

Once she left to remove your cups from the tables and set them out to dry with small name tags in front of them, you and Jungkook left to wash your hands. The restroom wasn’t gender seperated, since the house was originally meant to be actual living place. So there you stood, both incessantly rubbing your hands to get rid of the clay.

Jungkook got done much quicker than you did, not in the mood to make your skin sensitive so you rubbed carefully along your skin. “I don’t think I can get it off,” you pouted. “My skin will hurt if I scrub them too harshly.”

He took your hands in his and started carefully smoothing off the partially dried clay on your fingers. Once he was sure that your hands were clean again, he turned off the water and dried both your hands with the towel, patting your skin rather than rubbing even more. You held back a coo, finding it incredibly adorable of him to take care of you this way. When he looked up from your hands, your eyes met and the tension from back in the pottery room was building again.

“Y/N, would you hate me if I said that I really want to kiss you right now?” His voice was held quiet, considering that other people could request the washroom as well. You shook your head twice and scooted closer to him. He wore a small smile and reached down, taking one of his hands from your still towel wrapped ones and holding the side of your face and neck with it. His thumb caressed your cheek and he switched from looking into your eyes, down to your lips.

After a final moment of giving you the chance of declining, he closed the distance and kissed you softly. There was barely any pressure for the first few seconds, until he moved back and licked his lips, kissing you again but much more determined.

You reciprocated the kiss immediately, filling all your senses with Jungkook and not getting enough of him. An eager, tiny moan slipped out from your lips when he pulled off for a short moment, turning yours and his own head a bit as not to clash noses. He chuckled breathily into the kiss and let his hand roam to the back of your nape, getting you closer to him. He let go of your hands completely, taking the other one and holding you softly by the waist. He took a step forwards, leading you blindly against the sink and the kiss grew desperate. Your breath turned heavy and you couldn’t hold back from pressing against his lips more. Laying the towel down behind you, you grabbed at Jungkook’s shirt around his waist and held onto him. A whine slipped past you when he tentatively licked against your bottom lip, asking for more but still taking it without thought right after.

You both flinched when somebody knocked against the door, calling, “could this be hurried up a bit?” Jungkook looked at your face with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, eyes wide for a moment before he broke out into his wide smile again. He held your face with one and your hip with the other hand still and leaned a bit back to give you space to breathe.

“We’ll be out in a minute!” He exclaimed loud enough to be heard outside and looked back at you. “You’re okay?” His eyes held something in them but you didn’t have time to analyze it, nodding and turning to hang the towel up where it’s supposed to be. He took your hand in his, surprising you and opening the door. A middle aged white woman stood in front of the door, giving you both a judging look before Jungkook said, “that clay sure is tough to get off, huh?”

After that you left, laughing about the woman’s face and praising each other for the cups you made. Jungkook suggested milkshakes and burgers after you drove for a little and happy with the idea, you agreed.

After the food, not definable if it was more lunch or dinner by the time you were eating, Jungkook dropped you off at your place, wishing you a good almost night and saying that he’ll text you when he’s home. You blushed as you asked him to close his eyes and went in to plant a kiss on his cheek. His eyebrow jumped up at the contact and when he opened his eyes again, he grinned. You waved after you closed his door and turned around to walk into your apartment complex, smiling widely.

“Did you guys fuck tho?” Jimin asked you, hand raised and flopped over when he stood in the doorway with his weight on one leg and his hip popped out. His lips were pursed and he raised his eyebrows in expectation. You laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“No, we just,” you bit your lip, “kissed.” It was clear he didn’t buy it but he let it slide. Nodding multiple times, he walked over to the couch and flopped down.

“So, I assume you fell for my little trap, huh,” he grinned. “I was right about thinking you guys would work out, he’s the right amount of gentleman for you.”

He was right about this, you did enjoy Jungkook’s company and you started regularly texting and meeting up, sometimes just casual without the whole pressure of a date around it. He stole some kisses from time to time, always grinning too cute to get scolded for it and secretly, you loved getting attacked with his smooches when you least expect it.

“When is he gonna ask you out? What’s he waiting for?” Your noisy best friend opened up his snacks, throwing some into his awaiting mouth and chewing obnoxiously. You shrugged your shoulders, walking from the kitchen isle to the couch and joining Jimin.

You snuggled into the couch, next to him, watching a movie, when the door bell ringed. “Did you invite someone?” You looked up at Jimin from where you rested your head on his shoulder. He shook his head, watching you as you got up to see who was at the door.

The peephole revealed that Jungkook was standing in front of your door and you never opened it this quickly. “Gukkie! What are you doing here?” You squealed, falling into his arms. You weren’t expecting him at all, haven’t seen him for a week now and missed him the most. He chuckled, putting his arms around you and kissing your head.

“Had to visit the baby,” he talked into your hair, beaming in the affection. Giggling, you looked up, chin on his chest and grinning. “Hyung?” He asked, wide eyes and pitched voice.

Jimin greeted Jungkook back and they fell into small talk, you taking the opportunity to get some drinks, you and Jungkook’s selfmade cups for each of your drinks and a store bought one for Jimin.

The cups were painted white by your request and once they dried you and Jungkook were able to paint them as you liked, making it your fourth date at the time. You painted the cups for each other, making it a surprise but both ended up with an equally cute design. Jungkook painted your name in his squiggly handwriting and added a heart next to it, painting a smiley and flowers. On his cup you painted colorful swirls on one side and on the other one you painted two stick figures representing both of you.

Once you sat back on the couch, Jungkook between you and Jimin, the teasing started. “Cute show you guys gave me, is there gonna be more later?” Jimin’s eyes were glinting with mischief.

Instead of laughing like you did, Jungkook slapped Jimin on the back and grinned stiff, “you could also just leave?” They both laughed overly exaggerated at it and slept each others backs, until Jimin took Jungkook’s head underneath his arm and rubbed his hair quickly, creating heat.

“Respect your elders, Jungkook. But you’re right, I should go,” he looked up in thought, “Yoongi is probably missing me,” he swooned. After standing up and pushing Jungkook into the couch one last time, he hugged you and took his leave right after.

Jungkook took a sip of his drink and tsked at how Jimin left his untouched, smiling at his cup like he did every time he was over and you gave it to him.

“Ah, my plan worked well,” Jungkook smirked, placing the beverage back on the table in front of the couch, leaning back into the comfortable pillows and looking at you. “Let’s cuddle, c’mere.” His voice turned soft regarding you, opening his arms and inviting you with a wiggle to his brows.

“Why are you here, Guk?” You murmured after a short moment. He exhaled and sat up a little, rasping his throat.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” he said, very serious but the corner of his mouth moved up on his own. “Can we play Mario Kart?”

You blinked at him, bursting into laughter. “This is a very serious matter, Y/N. ” His face was stern, looking at you with no hint of humor.

“You made Jimin leave so we can play a video game?” The question wasn’t really in need of an answer, but Jungkook nodded anyway.

“You can be Peach and I’ll be Mario,” he said as he stood up and searched the drawers of the TV table for the remotes.

“Why do I have to be Peach? I always play Toad.” At this, Jungkook turned around abruptly and shook his head.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense,” he said. He was confusing you and your face made that clear but he was too busy with checking if the remotes had batteries in them, turning on the console and picking out the game of his desires.

“What are you trying to archive with this?” You giggled. “Why can’t I play my usual character?”

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to think. “Okay, well… let me word it differently.” He walked towards you, still sitting on the couch, and placed the two remotes to his side. Sitting opposite of you with crossed legs, he bit his lip and looked as his fingers as he pulled on his sock. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said timidly, looking up at you to catch your reaction.

You smiled, because it’s simply Jungkook. He could always act like the annoyingly confident guy but he’ll never hide how shy he really could be.

Nodding, you breathed, “yeah,” and squealed when he took you into his lap with a smile. “But can I still be Toad?”

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justonecitizenoftheearth · 3 years

Text

The Saga of Rögnvald réttilbeini

Notes: This is a fanfiction about an old norse text! My friend proofread my final thesis about men who used a certain kind of magic in ancient northern Europe. This kind of magic is very strongly connected to women, so men using it were seen as unmanly, or ergi in old norse, which is also a term used for gay men. There is one story in the Heimskringla, a text about the first kings of Norway, about 80 wizards who practice this magic called seiðr living together. My friend liked the gay wizard commune very much, was very disappointed by their gruesome end, and asked for a fix-it. So here it is: The Saga of Rögnvald réttilbeini!

I feel a bit blasphemous writing fanfiction about a 13th century text, but I think it turned out fine. Also, I know now a thing or two about norse magic now, but I took some creative liberties, this is fiction after all. ENJOY!!

@disorganisedautodidact

@fiifuchs

Rating: T

Content warning: Era-typical homophobia, era-typical gender roles, violence (not very graphic though)

Read it on AO3!

The Saga of Rögnvald réttilbeini

There was a man called Rögnvald. He was the son of the famous Harald hárfagra, the mighty king of Norway. But he wasn´t like Haralds other children. His fate led him to a different path.

The first time Rögnvald thought that there was something wrong with him, was the day he lost a swordfight and won a bet. He was nine years old and tried to be a good warrior, a good fighter, a good viking, so he could follow in his father´s footsteps. His father, who cast such a long shadow over the land and over the lives of his sons and daughters that Rögnvald wasn´t sure what the sun even looked like. But the axe and sword lay heavy in his hands and the anger and violence of his opponent hit him way before the wood did, let him stumble in fear and confusion. He wasn´t a good fighter. He was scared of his first raid. Of the pain and suffering he would have to endure. Of the pain and suffering he would cause. So he lost the swordfight against his older brother Eirik, who looked at his tears with a mix of pity and disgust. Men didn´t cry. Men didn´t lose. Men didn´t run into the woods afterwards, hands clutching the bruises on his arms and waist.

The woods were Rögnvalds friends. They held their own dangers, big animals, bad weather, you could trip and nobody would find you for days. But sometimes, when he allowed himself to dream, it seemed as if the vines opened a path for him, as if the birds sang louder when he came along, as if the rain fell warmer on his skin, as if the branches of the trees bowed down to him. Rögnvald had seen a bear or two, and there was a pack of wolves living nearby. He didn´t look for them in the vast forests, but he had seen their gray fur in the underbrush. But he never felt the same anger and violence in them that he did in his own brother, and Eirik had yet to kill him, so he decided to let them be as they let him be. Yes, the woods held dangers. But nowhere else seemed his father´s shadow so weak, nowhere else could Rögnvald breathe so deeply. His favorite place was on a cliff, looking over the fjord and away from the town. The sea breeze carried the smell of water, salt, and algae up to him and the trees sang their whispering songs in his back. It was his other brother who found him, Håkon, who sat down beside him and began throwing stones down into the grey-green waters below. It annoyed Rögnvald, but what was he supposed to do? So he looked away and up into the clouds.

“I think it´s going to start raining soon.”

Håkon looked up and frowned. “No, I think we have time before the rain starts. At least until we get back if we get going now, I bet.”

Rögnvald closed his eyes. The trees whispered. The wind sang. And up, way up in the clouds, he swore he could hear the soft tinkle of raindrops. He concentrated. He counted aloud. “One. Two. Three. Four.” The wind fell silent. “Five. Six. Seven.” The tinkle filled his senses. He sat up straight. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” He opened his eyes. The first raindrop hit his nose. He looked at his brother with wide eyes, who stared back through the downpour with disbelief and something between awe and mistrust in his eyes. Rögnvald didn´t know yet that he would get to know that look very well.

Rögnvalds grandmother Solveig was a Völva, a seer. She lived on her own and people came to her for advice or healing. They came with wounds and insecurities, with hurt in their hearts and sickness in their stomach. She had wise words and herbs for them. She could see what plagued them in their eyes and their future in clouds and the ashes of the hearth. Harald didn´t like her very much, he never came to her cottage, which was one more reason for Rögnvald to go there as often as possible. He sat at the fire in silence, watched her cut and dry herbs and listened to the sagas she told time and time again. He hid in her sleeping chambers when visitors came, listened to their stories of battle and love, of heartbreak and marriage, fishing and farming, the hardships and wonders of raising children and the weight of keeping secrets. Solveig didn´t judge. She listened patiently, gave advice when needed, warm tea for cold hands and hearts and an open ear for words that had to be said. It was in the darkness of her chambers in his eleventh summer that Rögnvald first heard of a man loving another.

The boy fled into the sleeping chambers of his grandmother as soon as he heard footsteps at her door. He sat down leaning against the wooden wall, and listened to the heavy steps of a man entering the house, bent down by grief. The voice of the man was surprisingly soft as he spoke, although Rögnvald had heard the heavy thud of an axe being set to the ground next to him. His name was Þorsteinn, and he had just come back from a raid to the Eastern coast. The raid had been a success, but not for him. His voice broke when he told Solveig about his friend Halvdan. How his eyes had gleamed under the moonlight when they got there. How his face had lit up by the fires of the first building burning. How ragged his breath sounded when he fell to the ground with an arrow in his chest. How cold his skin became when he died in his arms. Rögnvald cried Þorsteinns tears when the whole story broke free. After that, there was just the sound of grief for a long time. When he regained a little bit of his composure, Þorsteinn started to tell their story with faltering words. He told about a life-long friendship. About strange and secret feelings blooming. About the sweetness and terror of a first kiss. About two hands reaching for each other when everything they had been taught tried to pry them apart. About the thrill of fighting together and loving each other. About the hole left in his soul that he wasn´t allowed to show anywhere else. About the suspicion. About unmanliness, ergi, that they had been accused of, and the painful weeks apart to convince their families that nothing had happened that shouldn´t have. Solveig didn´t say anything. She brought tea and herbs for easier sleep. When Þorsteinns cries turned muffled, Rögnvald suspected that she held him while he fell apart. But he couldn´t move, couldn´t even wipe his face, was frozen in terror and excitement. It was forbidden. It was shameful. But he couldn´t help but wonder what it felt like to love another man so much. To touch his skin and know his soul, and his heart pounded, overwhelmed by the feeling of coming alive.

When Þorsteinn left, his steps were lighter, as was his heart, he had said that much. It took some more time until Rögnvald could make himself move. Solveig didn´t come to check on him, she let him be, let him take his time. It was one of the reasons he loved being with her so much. When he came back to the room, he just stared at her with wide, wet eyes. She looked back for a long moment, listening to the words unspoken. Then she kneeled down and held him, soothing his shivering, and humming a soft tone. When she got up again, she caressed his hair and lifted his chin. The light of the fire danced in her eyes.

“Fate is not always merciful, but it is never wrong.”

The problems of his childhood grew heavier with every year of age that Rögnvald lived among his family. He had to learn how to fight eventually, it was the only way. He also learned to dread his growing feelings when fighting other boys hand to hand, his heart pounding with more than fear, his skin prickling with more than pain, pleasure and torment taking his breath away. There were, however, things he enjoyed, like hunting and learning how to provide for himself in the wilderness. Solveig taught him about herbs and plants, about the weather and the wind, the waves and the frost and every growing thing. But he had to come more secretly with every year, the disapproval of his father and his brothers weighed heavier with every spring. He didn´t understand it, until a skald came to Harald in his 14th summer, and was allowed to sing at the feast. He sang about Haralds deeds as the king of Norway, about the gods and the nine worlds. But then came another song, one that took Rögnvald back to ancient times. The woods were even wilder then, the cold harsher, the people more violent. But there was one more danger out in the wild. A man, half human, half beast. A man who could control the wind and the wild creatures of the woods. A man who sang forbidden songs to the sea and the rain, soothing or enraging. A man who was hunted. A man who killed his brothers like prey. A man who wasn´t a man but a monster. And Rögnvald thought of the woods and the wind and the rain that felt more like his family sometimes than his older brothers. He didn´t know when or how he left the hall. He came to himself when his own voice interrupted his ragged breathing and he whispered into the bark of the tree he was clinging to: “I am a monster.”

Rögnvald kept away from his grandmother for some time. He fought hard to be what he was supposed to be, and kept himself away from the woods. His brothers approved, even his father seemed reluctantly pleased, but he failed to be happy about it. The woods called to him at night, his dreams haunted by visions. He saw a storm roll over the town, ripping down the mast of a ships and killing a man. He woke up in a cold sweat, dread heavy on his chest. Three days later he stood at the grave of the man killed by a falling mast in an autumn storm, and he thought he couldn´t breathe, he told himself that it was a coincidence and went hunting. Two days in the woods calmed his spirit, but he never forgot. The dreams became more frequent, his predictions more precise and he refused to sleep. He kept himself up and useful, stood guard in the dead of night and in the coldest days of the winter. Rögnvald shivered his way through the darkness and went to sleep in the morning. He dreamt of fire and rage, his skin turning black under the relentless flames, and when he woke up, the fire refused to leave his mind and veins. Rögnvald burned.

The fever ravaged his body for two weeks. Rögnvald barely ate, bare drank, wasn´t conscious for most of it. He screamed at the gods and begged them to take the foresight away from him. He swore to never touch a man, to never look at one, to never listen to the wind and the water again. He thrashed on his bed until he had to be bound to it and then he chaffed his skin raw on the ropes.

In the middle of his delirium, he had a moment of clarity. His grandmother sat at his bedside, bent over with worry, and she took his hand.

“The gods don´t make mistakes. You are what you are. Stop fighting it. If you are a seiðmaðr, you are supposed to be one. It´s alright, my dear Rögnvald. Your gift is not a curse.”

“It is alright?”

“It is alright.”

Rögnvald slept for four days. When he woke up, weak and nauseous and thin as a bear in spring, his mind was clear for the first time in months. He smiled at his grandmother and stayed in her house during his recovery. He learned everything he could from her, every herb, every spell, every secret. He learned to understand the voices of the forest, he learned how to bribe the wind to do his bidding, and how to coax the fish to the surface of the ocean. She told him about Freyr and Freyja and the Vanir. About growth and death and the afterlife. He spent his days in the forest and avoided his brothers and parents. The people of his town started to turn their heads when he passed by, whispering filthy words, and uttering unfriendly suspicions. But he kept his head high, his sight clear and his mind calm.

When Rögnvald turned 17, his grandmother passed away. It didn´t come as a surprise. She had grown weak and slow over the past months. He had been the one to look for herbs in the fields and forests, he had talked to everyone who was willing to confide in him. Rögnvald had been sitting at her bedside and had carried her out to the cliff. They had watched as the sun climbed down towards the gray-green waves, tinted the mountains red and the sky golden. The sun took Solveig with her to the lands of the dead. Rögnvald buried her on a hill close to the water, where she could look over the sea and far into the forest covered mountains. Then he announced that he would leave his family and travel to find adventure. Nobody stopped him. Nobody thought he would return. Rögnvald knew he wouldn´t.

The mountains were harsh in their beauty. Survival was hard, but Rögnvald learned to become a part of the land. He listened to the sky for rain and to the ground for shelter and prey. He read his fortune in the flight of the birds and the turn of the seasons in the clouds. His first winter was spent in a cave that he made into a home. But the cold wind found a way into his shelter, and the loneliness into his heart. When spring came, he swore he wouldn´t spend another winter like that.

Rögnvald had crossed Vestfold and came to Gulbrandsdalen. It was a lovely place, but the people were not fond of the name Harald hárfager, so he turned west into the mountains and towards the Hardanger fjord. Autumn sent it´s first cold breath over the lands when he crossed a meadow, the mountains in his back and the sea ahead. Sheep grazed peacefully and he stayed for a moment to admire the view. The rustling sound of steps behind him made him turn around. A man smiled at him; his face alit by the soft glow of the sunset. Rögnvald noticed long blond hair, shining green eyes and a firm grip as they greeted each other. The strangers´ voice was deep and rich as he announced his name:

“Frodi”

“Rögnvald”

They smiled at each other and Rögnvald followed back to Frodis hut. He stayed for the night and they talked much about Rögnvalds travels and Frodis sheep. About the summer passed and the winter ahead. Rögnvald helped Frodi with the harvest and the sheep. He hunted and fished for them both. When he called the fish to the surface of the pool out of habit, he turned in terror, expecting to see the same awe and suspicion as in his brother´s eyes, but Frodi met his gaze unafraid and full of warmth. Rögnvald couldn´t look away. The fishing net glided from his fingers. He took a step forward, heart in his throat, but he didn´t dare to go further. Instead, he turned, took up the net and caught the fish he had called. Frodi helped him to pull out the catch, fingers brushing and cheeks burning.

Rögnvald stayed another day. And another. They saw the first snow together. Every night came earlier and left more reluctantly. Every night found them laying down closer to each other. When Frodi took Rögnvalds hand and asked him to stay the winter, it didn´t come as a surprise, but that didn´t damp the happiness Rögnvald felt. His heart pounded in his chest and for the first time in his life, he felt as if he could stay.

Only the fire and the howling wind outside their hut witnessed them as they sat by the hearth one evening, shifting closer and closer together, fingers and hearts shaking as their hands found each other. For one eternal moment they looked into each other’s eyes, question and answer in one. The first brush of lips was sweet as the first touch of spring and as overwhelming as the first winter storm. Rögnvald wrapped his arms around Frodi when it ended, and held on as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did.

Winter went by slowly, in darkness and bitter cold, but Rögnvald barely noticed. He spent his days under warm furs, wrapped around an even warmer body. He learned what it meant to feel another mans skin on his own, how lips could burn and what pleasures another one’s company held. They talked a lot and by the end of winter, they knew each other so well that words were mostly unnecessary. Touches and looks were enough. Rögnvald learned what it was to love and to be loved in return, and a part of him lived in this time until the end of his life.

Spring came, and they saw the rise of the sun with soaring hearts. They sat in front of their hut, holding hands, and looking over the endless ocean, sure about their place in the world. Summer came and they rolled around in the soft grass, the sun witnessing their joy and pleasure. Autumn came and they brought in the harvest together and reveled in the riches that nature gave them. Winter came and Rögnvald told Frodi everything he had learned from his grandmother. They talked about the power of nature, about the prejudice of humans, what it meant to be a man and what it meant to be a seiðmaðr. They dreamed about finding others of their kind. About finding and shaping a place that would allow them to be who they were. When spring came, they were ready. As the snow climbed up the mountains, they did too, hope and sorrow both heavy in their hearts as they left their sanctuary. They turned southeast, towards lands where they would be able to grow the plants they needed to feed their people, and towards the border of king Haralds influence. In the middle of summer, they found a remote valley in Haðaland, green and lush, secluded, and safe. They built a home for themselves and their sheep, and prepared for the winter. A wandering skald came through. They saw a longing in his heart they recognized. His name was Kjell. He stayed for one day that turned into ten and then into all winter. They shared with him what they had, their food, their shelter, their bed, and their hearts. Food became scarce, but house and hearth stayed warm, and they made it to the next spring. But Kjell wasn´t one to stay in one place for a long time. He longed to roam the land, but promised to spread the word among others like them, and to return for the winter. Their farewell was heartfelt and warm.

Rögnvald and Frodi began to prepare the land for their reign. They cut down some trees, but they didn´t clear the land as their people had done. They planted what they needed in the half shade of the birch forest. They dreamt of others coming to join them, and prepared shelters in time for their arrival. Three other men arrived, Erik, Þorgrim and Ragnar, they had met Kjell and were in awe about the bravery of the two seiðmenn. Two others came, Þorleik and Reik, led to them by their dreams. Two were led there by fate, Halvdan and Leif. Rögnvald and Frodi listened to their stories of violence and abuse, broken families and broken trust. They dried the tears of their new friends as well as they could and gave them something to believe in. Together, they built more houses between the trees. The men had brought goats with them that mingled with Frodis sheep. Summer was as warm and rich as the season could be, and their gardens and fields flourished. They bathed in the river nearby and watched the birds fly by overhead. Rögnvald and Frodi stayed close together, in awe of how their lands and lives bloomed. Autumn brought rich harvest and good hunt. Halvdan and Reik, who had found shelter in each other´s arms, went down to the fjord, with furs and art to trade for salt. Rögnvald, Erik and Þorgrim went hunting and came back in time to pickle the meat. Kjell returned with the first snow and Rögnvald and Frodi welcomed him back into their lives and bed with open arms.

Years went by. More men came. Bonds were made. They spread their houses far and wide over the valley. Some of them preferred more secluded, remote places where they lived in harmony with nature. Some were happy to have found company that didn´t judge them for who they were. However, they were human, naturally there were some fights, jealousy over lands and hearts, or power. But those fights could be solved quickly, and most were aware that there was no better place to be for people like them. Women joined them, too. Mostly those unhappy with the role that they had been assigned for by their communities. They were women who loved another, who had no interest in settling down with a man, or to bear children. Many of them had learned the things that Rögnvald had learned from Solveig from their own mothers and grandmothers and didn´t want to hide who they were.

Of course, there were hardships, too. Being able to influence the weather didn´t mean that they could change the climate. Sometimes all attempts to call for rain were in vain. Sometimes even the nightly fires couldn´t keep the apple blossoms from freezing in the early spring. Mud and cold weather were as uncomfortable as ever, and sometimes the healers tried in vain to chase the sickness from a friend. But they helped each other out through all grievances and held each other up and laughter was heard more often than weeping.

Life flourished, and after ten years, about 80 people lived in the valley in Haðaland, some all year, some all summer, some came back for winter like Kjell. Music and dance were omnipresent, and they dressed as they wished to. Frodi had taken a liking to dresses while some of the women, like Þora and Ragnhild, who had fled their husbands together with their children, preferred breeches. Rögnvald and Frodi loved to take care of the children while their mothers were out and hunting, or fishing, or taking some time for themselves under the warm glow of the summer sun. The longing for Kjell was a permanent ache in their hearts, but one they shared.

Summer and winter solstices were celebrated with great fires, with drums and song, and many ate mushrooms or inhaled the smoke of burning herbs to widen their minds and leave the confines of their bodies to look for truth and vision in the depth of the space between the worlds. Rögnvald led those dances, and it was Frodi who brought him back from the vast emptiness of a space beyond sense and reason with gentle kisses and touches. Frodi, who brought him tea for his aching head and held him close and safe as he sank into an exhausted sleep. As they enjoyed the company of Kjell during the winters, there were many who didn´t exclude others from their pleasures, as well as those who preferred to stay by themselves. Live in Haðaland was free, and easy, and in harmony with nature and each other. But darkness tends to be drawn to places of light, and Rögnvald and his 80 seiðmenn and völvas were no exception. Dark dreams came as a messenger of hardship to come, and while they lived in peace and prosperity, the dread sank in like ink seeping through a piece of parchment.

It was Kjell who brought the news. He had been at the court of Harald hárfager and he had ridden his horse half to death to get to them in time. He jumped from his exhausted steed, far too early for his return, in the beginning of autumn. With wide strides, he crossed the village to get to Frodi, who was pulling up weeds. His green eyes gleamed when he saw his beloved return, but his gaze quickly darkened when he noticed the pain and regret in Kjell´s face.

“Call everyone together! I will look for Rögnvald! Quickly, we don´t have time!”

Frodi nodded, but pulled Kjell in for a desperate kiss. “I will. Rögnvald is in the woods. Listen to the birds, they will lead you. Everything will be alright!”

Kjell nodded and ran into the forest, leaving Frodi with dread and fear in his heart.

Harald was coming. Harald hárfager, who hated seiðr-magic, had sent Rögnvalds brother Eirik to them, to come and clear his father´s name of the shame that was a seiðmaðr as a son.

“I´m sorry. It is my fault. I told the seer Vitgeir about you, about us. I thought he would join us, but he revealed your gifts to your father. It is no secret where you dwell, but the nature of our community was, and is no longer, because of me. Please, forgive me, my love.”

Rögnvald stood and pulled Kjell up into his arms.

“There is nothing to forgive, beloved one. There was no reason to distrust one of our own. What has been done has been done. But the wheel of fortune spins quickly.”

He turned towards his people. He saw their frightened eyes and the hope shattered in their hearts and a fire roared in his ears unlike any he had ever felt before. These people were his family, his kin. He would rather burn than let anything happen to them by his brother’s hand. He´d rather turn the land itself against the men coming for them. He´d rather perish with them then let them touch what was his to protect. He spoke:

“Pack what you can. Hide in the mountains. Let Eirik come, he will find no living soul on this ground.”

Frodi took his hand, worry clearly visible in his frown.

“They will know we have left. They will hunt us like deer.”

Rögnvalds gaze turned to steel. “No, they won´t.”

Nightfall saw the village empty. Everything that could be carried had been packed. The animals had been led far into the forest. The children had been silent and scared. Rögnvald saw the last of his people disappear into the dark of the forest at night. Frodi pulled at his hand as Kjell watched the horizon with growing dread.

“We have to go.”

“No.”

Rögnvald saw the pain and fear in both his lover´s faces. He pulled them close.

“I will not let them get those I love. They will leave here believing that we have all perished. Then we will go and find another place to live.”

“How?”

“You will see.”

Rögnvald felt the faint vibrations of many feet approaching the village.

“Go, go now! Return with the sun!”

Kjell hesitated. Then he spoke:

“I have travelled many dangerous roads, and you always trusted me to come back. I trust you now.”

Then he pulled Frodi up and muffled his cries with his hand as he dragged him into the safety of the forest. Rögnvald stayed behind and sank to the ground. He beckoned the wind to do his bidding. He asked the clouds to cover the moon. He asked the animals around him to flee to safety. He waited and felt his fate approach. When the darkness was deepest, they came. And he was ready.

Rögnvald asked the wind to lift the dust up to form running humans, darting across the village. He asked it to cry with children´s voices. He let it carry his voice down to his brother, to beg him to turn back. He didn´t. Rögnvald wasn´t surprised, but he felt fire and rage burning in his veins like never before. For a moment he realized that he understood his brother now more than ever. Here, at the crossroads, before they would part ways forever, they were closest to each other. Then the thought vanished, drowned out by fire and fury.

Rögnvald let the doors of the great hall in the middle of his village fly open and let the wind carry the dust inside. He rattled with the swords and axes left behind as a cover. He clouded the minds of these people he had once called his own, as he had clouded the sky. And when they threw the first torch into the house that had once been his home, he let his rage fuel the flames, let the fire scream with the voices of his family, let the light lead them to all their houses. He let the wind carry embers into their faces and away from the trees. He raged with the roaring inferno as it devoured everything they had built up with their bare hands. Rögnvald bowed down and begged the bones of the land to imitate the bones of the people closest to him as the rain poured down and tamed the raging flames. His words died down with the flickering fires and the silence of death sank heavily onto the land. He sank down with the ashes, too drained to move, and watched as they looked through the buildings, taking everything that hadn´t been burned to a crisp, too tired to listen to their laughter and delight. He watched as they pissed on what they thought were his bones. He watched as the last one disappeared with the first light of morning. The black, scorched earth came closer, blocked out the light of the sun and pulled him down into the cold and dark, and then there was nothing.

The first thing Rögnvald felt was water dripping onto his face. It was salty. The ground seemed to sway underneath him. He opened his eyes and saw the faces of his lovers, distorted by desperation, their tears falling onto his lips and cheeks. He wanted to reassure them, but the black earth called him back.

The second thing Rögnvald felt was water dripping onto his face. It was sweet. His body swayed as if carried. He opened his eyes to a cloudy sky. Rain fell into his eyes as he was carried to a wagon and laid down carefully by Kjell. He wanted to ask something, but the darkness called him back before he could find his tongue.

The third thing Rögnvald felt was water dripping onto his face. It was salty. His body swayed and as he opened his eyes, he found himself on a ship. His head rested in Frodis lap and as he slowly sat up, he saw the coast of Norway disappear in the distance. His hands were cradled in those of his lovers and together, they turned their backs on the land and people who had never wanted them in the first place.

They sailed west until they came to the coast of a green land. Mountains rose into a clear blue sky. They didn´t want to go to Iceland, which was too far away to settle down before winter. They didn´t want to go to the Orkney islands, which Harald had shown interest in even before Rögnvald left. They sailed around the land called Alba, and were welcomed with open arms. The people helped them over the winter. They shared stories of a god with antlers, and an island covered in mist. They tended their wounds and shared what they had and stayed their friends over many winters to come.

In the spring, Rögnvald and his family sailed over to an island barely visible from the mainland. It was partly covered in forests, with a steep northern coast and soft slopes leading down to the waters in the south. It wasn´t as lush as their old home, but it was more than enough.

They sowed the seeds of their old home and watched them grow over the springs to come. Getting enough wood to build all the houses was difficult, so they started building with clay and earth, let grass cover their roofs and protect them from unwanted eyes. Some of the people from the mainland joined them and some of their own decided to live there. Kjell started to roam the lands again during summer, after being afraid to leave for some years. The island stopped being their exile and started feeling like home.

They took the legends of the land they had settled in to heart, and whenever foreign ships approached, they surrounded their island with mist, impenetrable for the eye and frightening to the heart. Only those who had been led there once were allowed to set foot on the land. Rögnvald and the others built a seat on the steep northern cliff, and there was a guard watching over the island at all times, who called the mist in and warned his friends when strangers approached. The land beneath their feet started to recognize their footsteps, just as they learned to hear the song in the old bones of the land, and they became one before the first one of Rögnvalds family realized it.

One morning, Rögnvald stood on the watchtower with Frodi. It was spring, and a small ship sailed out towards the mainland. On board was Kjell, who sailed out to his annual journeys. He had been more reluctant to go than ever before. They all suspected that he would one day grow tired of his wanderings, but it wasn´t this year and it was his decision to make. So they watched him go with a familiar longing in their hearts. After the boat had passed from view, Rögnvald turned his head towards Frodi. The first silver strands had started to sneak into his golden hair. But the green eyes were alive and warm as ever, just as the arm he wrapped around Rögnvald. They watched the sun rise over Alba and the light flood the land to their feet, where their family slowly awoke to a new day.

#norse mythology #norse folklore #heimskringla #snorri sturluson #seidr #seidmadr #I can´t believe this is a tag that existed beforehand!!#ragnvaldr #rögnvald rettilbeini #freyr #freyja #vanir #fanfiction

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spellcasterlight · 3 years

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[Shino x Tenten] - SFW Headcanons

The Insect Prince & The Weapons Mistress. Separate? Dazzling. Together? Blinding.

They get together slowly, getting to know each other over time, sharing small conversations over friend dinners, creating shared memories by shared missions and understanding each other after training sessions until one day Tenten realises that the person she wants to tell most about her day is the Aburame, she isn’t as confused by this new realisation as she thinks she should be.

When she finds Shino, Kiba teases him for the way the hive user seemed to brighten when she appeared. When Tenten asks if Shino would like to have dinner with her Kiba again teases at how fast he agrees; and that’s how it begins.

Tenten shows affection in true Team Gai style, with hugs, and with Shino she is no different; she showers him in hugs and small kisses, she was never good with words and so will let her physical affection do the talking.

Shino’s affection is less showy, especially in public, a hand hold is what Tenten learns to expect when the insect user initiates affection, but when they are alone the insect user will tell her all the ways he loves her, physically, emotional, spiritually, combined with gentle caresses and the smallest brushes of lips until the weapons mistress’s cheeks are rose red and she tries to hide in her hands in embarrassment. He never lets her, but she still tries.

Tenten spent her Genin days covered in dirt, and grass, and blood, and whatever else found in the training grounds because of her intense training with her team. She doesn’t flinch or recoil at the sight of bugs like other girls do. They’re just something else that lives in their village with them. So when the weapons user finds a random insect or two crawling over her hand she simply sets it aside and carries on doing whatever she originally was.

Shino teaches her to slow down, to take her time, to simply take a step back and breathe. She isn’t used to it, not at all. Growing up in Team Gai, and always feeling like the weak thread she had pushed herself constantly, has always been training, always been learning, always been looking for ways to improve herself, to keep up with her teammates.

So when the Aburame heir convinces her to simply sit with him for the afternoon and do nothing her nerves are jittery with should-be-doing-something energy. But as Tenten sits there, listening to him read to her about insects she couldn’t even hope to pronounce the name of, the weapons mistress curled into his side, she decides this is nice, she liked this, she would be okay to do nothing with him again.

The opposite is true; Tenten convinces Shino to come to friend dinners and joint team training sessions more were he would usually opt to wonder the gardens in silence instead. The insect user will admit it is good for him, to spend more time with his friends, not just in a training capability either but to simply be around people. It is whenever, at a joint team meet up, Naruto himself tells him he was looking for him, that they were waiting for him to show up, Shino knows that is partly in thanks to Tenten that he has become a more permanent, memorable, part of his extended friend’s lives.

They both have niche knowledge subjects that they hold dear to their hearts; insects and weapons, of all sizes and abilities. They may not understand the content but they understand the excitement and love the other has for their specialised topic. Tenten will happily talk Shino’s ear off about a new sharpening technique or a tried and tested way of expanding the range of paper bombs and the Aburame heir will listen intently, almost absorbing her excitement as his own.

Shino will tell her about a new species of moth that has started settling in the area, or a change in the breeding habits of dragonflies and as long as he tells her when she can lay by his side, like he’s telling her like a bedtime story, or if she can twirl a kunai in her hand she will absorb every word.

Shibi accepts Tenten with open arms, anyone who brings his son so much happiness is instantly welcomed into his family, his home and his clan. The elder Aburame watches them interact as they take walks through the Aburame compound’s gardens, or over meals, or when they are simply talking about their days.

She is more animated then either of the Aburame men; it seems to bring Shino out of his shell, makes him more comfortable to be more forward with his thoughts and opinions on matters. The weapons mistress happily pointing at everything to hear what information Shino has about the insect or the flower or whatever else had caught her eye.

Tenten openly asks for Shino’s thoughts on things were most others would simply talk over him, Shibi likes this quality, a lot of Aburame have felt the sting of being swept aside in conversations. The conversations the three of them have over dinner are faster, slightly more energetic than if it were only the two insect tamers, Shibi could get used to it.

When the Team Gai member happily waves the clan head goodnight before taking his son’s hand, the Aburame heir giving a small smile at the gesture, Shibi is cemented in his knowledge that she is good for Shino.

Kiba, Hinata and Lee are their biggest supporters. Those three grew up with them, have known them since day dot, and therefore can see the differences in them to know Shino and Tenten help bring out the best in each other.

Shino smiles more, talks more, get’s more involved. Tenten is more firm in her belief in herself, takes more time to relax and look after herself, and happily talks about the Aburame as if they were her family from the start.

Anything that brings out this new level of happiness and contentment in their friends couldn’t be anything but spectacular.

As their relationship grows his hive starts to do small things for Tenten without her asking, she has shown no ill will towards them and the weapons user shows their host more love and adoration than he has ever felt. His hive will automatically block attacks against her person in battle when they can, they bring her objects from across the room, seek her out when they believe Shino needs her. Tenten likes his hive; she thinks it’s like having a guardian animal. When Tenten tells Shino this he can only pull her into a gentle hug and thank her. She doesn’t understand why he’s thanking her really but she hugs him back with a contented smile.

Shino will not immediately run to Tenten’s side in battle when she in injured, like Naruto or Kiba would do for their partners, he knows how strong she is, how capable she is. The Aburame heir will watch her pull herself back up, dust herself off and throw herself back in the fray; in the rare times where he does need to assist her there is not a trace of the enemy left to bury. His silent rage at anyone thinking they could take Tenten from him spurring his hive into completely destroying the opponent.

She adores Shino’s hands, Tenten will happily spend an entire evening listening to his day as she inspects his hands in the dying sunlight; they speak of their different combat strategies, different personalities, and the different lives they have lived. He secretly loves when Tenten lets her hair down at night time; he watches her brush out her chocolate locks, mentally comparing her to the beautiful princess in a tower from a fairytale.

Surprising the both of them it's Tenten that says "I love you" first. She asked him to pass the ink for an elemental sealing scroll on a lazy Thursday afternoon. Tenten was about to explain which of her many inks she needs when Shino passes her the correct one automatically. The weapons user looks at him like she's having an out of body experience.

"I have watched you long enough; to know the differences; Tenten," and just like that an emotional dam in her breaks violently.

"I love you Shino," her own eyes widen at the admission, but now that her mouth has started it doesn't want to stop. “I do, I love you, I love you so much Shino.”

The Aburame heir is over hugging the emotional weapons mistress the next second and he’s so confused and panicky because he’s never seen her like this. When her tears settle from her emotional overload and her body falls into his embrace she whispers it again, calmer, steadier.

“I love you so much Shino,” she laughs, light and watery then. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

And then Shino is hugging her so tight she can’t breathe whispering that he loves her too and then she starts happy crying all over again.

Shino has always wanted a daughter, but when he confesses this can never be Tenten frowns and asks why.

“Aburame’s; rarely; have female children,” the insect tamer confesses with a heavy heart. “It was; many; generations ago that we had our last female born child.”

“How come?” Is all Tenten can think of to ask back.

“We; do not know,” Shino tells her, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

Tenten snuggles further into his side before speaking again. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll break tradition,” the Team Gai member grins up at him. “I’m an optimist remember?”

He doesn’t believe they would, if they had any children at all they would be boys, but he loves that she would try to give him hope; that she believes they can do anything as long as they are together.

Surprising no one it’s Shino that proposes. During one of their regular walks around the Aburame gardens at night time, when they turn a corner and her jaw drops when she sees fireflies dancing in the sky spelling out the words ‘marry me?’ she turns to Shino with a giant smile half hidden in her palm.

“You know that’s corny right?” She asks him but he doesn’t care, because she’s smiling and hugging him the next second chanting “yes, yes, yes” over and over again.

His mother’s engagement ring fits her ring finger, the beautiful single emerald on a silver band shines in the light of the now dancing fireflies.

They tell their teammates first. Lee and Hinata start immediately happy crying and the taijutsu user pulls the two girls into a rib crushing hug. Kiba only punches Shino in the arm and tells him “it’s about damn time.”

They are married in the Aburame gardens they love so much, Gai and Lee crying before the ceremony even starts. Tenten wears a three quarter length green dress with her hair down like he likes and Shino wears a black formal kimono with his usual sunglasses. When they kiss, symbolizing the beginning of their marriage, Shino’s hive dances around them buzzing happily. Tenten’s teammates only cry harder.

Separate? They are well rounded, interesting, whole people in their own right. Together? They would help each other, work alongside each other, never overshadowing the other, nurture the best in each other and care for each other deeply.

Separate? Dazzling. Together? Blinding.

#shinoten #shino aburame #tenten #naruto headcanons #naruto pairing headcanon

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bodyswapmischief · 4 years

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Jiggalo In Trouble

Well, I don't fucking know what to do. You see ... this isn't my body. This morning I was a hairy, obese, 50 year old man. Not, this muscled, latino, bad boy you see now.

You could say my life was pathetically tragic. I grew up in a time and place where I couldn't be myself. I was gay but, stayed deep in the closet. I even forced myself to marry a woman and have 3 beautiful children. I had a decent life and most days I was happy. But, I always knew I was lying to the ones I love. Yet, I knew the truth could never come out. I had to live the rest of my life playing a straight man.

But, there was always one thing on my bucket list. I wanted to have a sex with a man. Just once, and I could die happy. I tried many times, with gay dating apps, but I always chickened out at the last minute.

But, then the opportunity showed itself. I was selected by my boss to go to Las Vegas, for a work related convention. I would be the repsentive for this branch at some booths, panels, and meetings that were going to happen.

It didn't seem to stressful. Working for the company for so long, I knew I would be able to handle it. But, what I was really excited for was the possibilites. "Whatever happens in Vegas; stays in Vegas."

So, I get there and I work at the convention. It was okay. I met some cool people. I networked. But, the long days always left me tired. I had no time or energy to look for a fast one night stand. Or maybe that was just an excuse for me chickening out again. Outside of the convention, I just spent my time eating at th hotels buffet and watching TV in my hotel room.

As the paid trip was coming to an end, I had a free day all to myself. It started off the same. I went to the buffet and ate till I was full. Then I waddled back to my room. Looking through my suitcase, I saw my special clothes I packed. In case I did manage to get the courage to do a one stand, I pack some leather gear. I sighed disappointed in myself for chickening out.

But, a thought popped in my mind. I might not have the courage to have sex with a stranger. But, I could walk around the casino dressed up as a fat leather daddy. I put on the tight leather pants. I put on a plain white shirt and leather vest. I looked at the mirror and smiled. Finally, I could express myself. I put on the rest of my gear and sighed. My heart was racing. And then I opened my hotel room door.

No one was around so, I walked into the elevator. Through the sound of my heartbeat, I was screaming inside my mind. "What the FUCK am I doing." As the elevator went down people started getting in. I wanted to cry, I was so embarrassed. But, nobody said anything. No one laughed or said something mean. Some people even smiled at me. I began to relax. I began to feel happy and maybe even sexy.

It felt like the stars aligned. And maybe they did. I went to see some shows. I ate at the buffet. I got compliments from guys. I got some numbers and some invites to clubs. I even danced with some guys at a leather bar. But, I knew I wasn't going to take the next step. I was still scared. And, it was getting late. With beer in my stomach and altering my mind. I stopped at the slot machines and put a coin in, before going to my room. And, luck really was on my side. As the machine lit up, it announced I won the 20,000 dollar grand prize. I was still drunk. Staff and other people surrounded me. They were cheering and giving me balloons, a crown, and the check to collect my winnings when I was ready.

I got up, still tipsy, and stumbled a little bit. People laughed and cheered little bit. The staff slide the check into my vest pocket. "Don't worry I got him." A hot young man came to myside. He used his strength to help me stand. He had tattoos on his arms. He was wearing a tight shirt and pants. A gold chain hung from his neck.

Everyone dispersed as this Latin stud led me to the elevator. "Okay, Papi, what room are you in." To drunk I just handed him my key card. He lead me to my room and laid me on the bed. He started taking off my clothes. I don't fight back. In my drunk mind this is the fantasy I always wanted. "Okay big boy, it looks like your going to get luck again tonight."

I can't see over my giant stomach but, I could feel him take off my pants then underwear. Suddenly, I felt him push my fat pad and start sucking my dick. He started off slow and I moaned with pleasure. He kept sucking using his tongue to play with the head of my penis. My breathing became heavier and the pleasure starts to sober me up. I felt my dick about to burst with cum. I tried to warn him but he ignores me. And, I shoot my load into his mouth. I gasped in ecstasy.

Suddenly, I felt a dick in my mouth. My mouth is covered with semen, as the dick keep pulsating with cum. I swallowed what I could and then took it out of my mouth. Right in front of me was a familiar sight. I saw my penis surrounded by my fatty pelvic region. From this outside perspective I could see how fat I really was? I look down and saw that I'm in the young man's body. My dick was rock hard and my body was now lighter and stronger. Adrenalin rushed through my muscles. Tattoos covered the body.

My body finally started talking, "Like what you see?"

"What did you do to me ... to us?"

"You see I'm a juggalo and I saw you ... a man who needed to get lucky, if you know what I mean. And, after tonight's big win down stairs I know you have the money to pay me."

"But... but.... I'm in your body and you ..."

"Oh, I have a fetish. I like giving men the opportunity to be me. I mean look at you now you are stud. You are turned on just by being in that body. Just existing in that body is orgasmic for you. So, that makes sex so much better, at least for me. And, then experiencing new bodies is always fun. I haven't been in a person this fat in awhile. And your breast are so sensitive. Oh, and this tight asshole. What do you say do you want to fuck yourself, with my body."

My old body spreaded its legs, revealing its asshole. My dick was raging hard. I slowly inserted my long dark dick. It felt so good. I started going a little faster. I watch as the muscles in my caramel body flexed and relaxed. The whole experience was hot. I started touching my old body the way I knew I liked to be touched.

"Fuck this is so good. Faster, faster, faster." My old body cried out. Feeling the strength of the muscled body, I go full speed. Both of our bodies were sweating, panting, moaning. Then everything stopped, as we both cummed.

We laid side by side, a big smile on my face. My old fat body started kissing my buff chest and then up my neck. "Let me freshen up, and then it's my turn to fuck you." He whispered sexually.

I watched as he struggled to get to his feet and then as he waddled to the bathroom. I laid there exploring my new body. My dick already getting hard from my excitement.

Then, I heard the front room door open. A man with a gun walked in.

"Fuck Enrique! Cover up or something." My heart racing, I grabbed a blanket and put it over my naked body. "Good, now this is you last fucking chance. The boss wants his money and necklace back"

"You ... you ... I'm... um." I try to talk but I can't think straight. The man walked closer and grabbed me by the neck. He started choking me. I tried to fight back. But, then he grabs me by the balls. He starts squeezing them. The pain is intense, I lay still. "Good now talk or I ripped out your prized possessions." He says as he pulls out a blade.

Then from the corner of my eye, I saw my old body enter the room. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Ryan leave him alone. It's me Enrique. He has nothing to do with this."

The man on top of me looks over his shoulder. "Really!? Your in that fatass. I guess it suits you for being such a pig in the first place." He laughed. "So, where's the boss's money."

"Here, I have part of it here. This guy just won it big downstairs. And, with access to his memories, I have access to his bank accounts." Enrique smiles.

The man begins to aim his gun at Enrique. "What ... what are you doing. I ... I have the money." Enrique starts to panic.

"What is your name," the man motions to me. "Andrew," I nervously replied. The man turns his attention back at Enrique. "No you don't have the money. You have Andrew's money. The boss is fucking tired of your shit. God! I've been waiting to do this for so long," with that last word Enrique, in my body, was shot in the head. Blood splattered on the wall and was quickly pooling on the floor. I saw in shock as my old body laid thier lifeless. What the fuck was going to happen, now.

The man walks to me and I prepare for the worst. Instead, he just ripped the golden chain from my neck. "Well it looks like it your lucky day. You got an upgrade on your body.." He said, as he looked down at me. "Don't worry about your old life. There is no going back now. I'll make sure your wife and kids get what you saved in your bank and I'm pretty sure the boss will throw a little extra."

"S ... so your just going to let me go?," I asked.

"Yeah, why not? You didn't do anything wrong., besides cheating. But, we've all been there. Plus, that body has made a lot of enemies so, you won't exactly have a peaceful life. Don't get me wrong the boss will spread the word of what really happened to Enrique, but some people just really like seeing the actual body dead. So, take your winnings and find some small town to lay low and start a new life."

A new life, one that was in constant danger. This seemed more like a punishment, but in a way I guessed I deserved it. I could never go back to my old life. I knew at this point there was no use in protesting. "What about him I pointed to my dead body."

."Oh, he was a pig in life. Now he's being tortured as a fatass in hell. But, if you are talking about the body; well we have people who will take care of that. So, I recommend leaving as soon as possible."

The man patted me on the back and started to leave. "Good luck with your new life. But, if things get to out of hand for you or you are in desperate need for a job give me a call." He places a business card on the desk, before he leaves.

Now, I'm sitting here. Memories flood my mind. I saw every bad thing this body did. Using that necklace, the man took, to rob people of everything they owned, even killing people in the process. I looked at my hands, then my arms, and then my muscular torso. I had my dream body, but at what cost. I look at this memories with disgust, I knew that I wasn't capable of those acts. But, it didn't matter, the memories felt so real.

I hear a buzzing sound and snap back to reality. I start putting on Enriques clothes and feel a cell phone. It buzzes again. LAST WARNING: Destroy this phone and get out of there now!. I easily snap the phone in half and submerge the broken pieces into a nearby glass with water. I take the the business card and walked out of the room. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew Las Vegas was no longer safe for me. I need to get some where far and collect my thoughts about what the fuck happened.

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howtosingit · 4 years

Text

Fic: Sometimes Things Just Fall Apart

TK comes home to a dark, silent house, no dog to greet him at the door, and a husband laying in bed, still dressed in his work uniform; it’s anything but normal.

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 2: “It’s okay to cry” + Comfort

2.1K | Also on AO3.

-----

The house feels cold and empty when TK gets home from work.

It’s unsettlingly, considering the Strand-Reyes household is pretty much always bright and bursting with energy. Usually when he walks through the door, he’s met with the furry hurricane of a golden retriever, who tries to tackle him with kisses before he even slips out of his shoes. When Carlos beats him home, TK usually finds him in the kitchen, music playing and smells permeating the space as his husband prepares dinner for the two of them. He always slips in next to Carlos to claim his customary “thank you for being safe at work and coming home to me” kisses - one pressed to his forehead and one to his lips - before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting at the island so that they can fill each other in on their workdays.

None of that greets TK when he walks through the door today. There isn’t a single light on, and no Max to greet him with slobbery kisses. He knows Carlos is home, having pulled alongside the Camaro in the garage. He calls out as he slips off his shoes, but no one answers. A chill runs through TK when he spots Max’s leash hanging by the door, a feeling of dread coursing through him as he takes in the stark, uninviting kitchen to his left, and the equally uninhabited living room to his right.

TK cuts through the house, heading for the stairs, his heart beating heavier with each step as he searches for his husband. His mind is spinning with possible explanations, wondering what might have happened at work for Carlos to bring it home with him. TK knows that Carlos does everything he can to not let his job seep into their home, a discipline that TK has also worked to strengthen in himself. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk about the hard days, but usually when they happen, Carlos will text him when he’s off work and they’ll spend the evening out, either at a park or seeing a movie or getting dinner. Anything to purge the pain of their work before they go to bed for the night. It’s not a perfect system, but they’ve made it work for them, and the fact that Carlos has broken the expected routine shakes TK to his core.

His fear increases when he steps onto the second-floor landing and hears no sounds from the bathroom. He wondered if Carlos may have been in the shower and not heard him when he called, but that idea dies in the continued silence. He continues forward to their bedroom, pushing against the ajar door to peer inside. His breath steals from his chest at what he finds.

Laying on the bed, back-to-back, are his two guys. Max looks up at him from his side of the bed, a concerned look on his face. The fact that he makes no move to greet him tells TK all that he needs to know. His husband lays on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, and TK notices that he’s still fully-dressed in his uniform, shoes and duty belt included. It’s such a jarring sight that TK freezes before he can even take a step into the room.

“Carlos?” he says softly, his voice carrying across the stiff silence in the room like a siren scream. There’s no movement from his husband, and TK wonders if he might be asleep. Max turns his head to nudge against the back of Carlos’s neck, a soft whine escaping him; TK feels his heart break.

He moves quietly, circling around the foot of the bed to stand in front of Carlos. He’s shocked to find his eyes open, the brown irises that are usually filled with love and warmth unnervingly blank as they stare straight ahead at the far corner of the room. His husband makes no indication that he’s even noticed him.

TK slowly sinks to his knees, bringing them face-to-face. Carlos continues to stare through him, his expression an unchanging mask. “Hey, you,” TK whispers, a forced smile forming on his face as he tries to get any sort of reaction out of his husband. It’s not until he brings a hand up to delicately grip Carlos’s wrist that his husband finally notices his presence.

It’s sudden, a visible shiver running down his entire body as his eyes blink warily, his pupils dilating as they shift to focus on TK. The moment their eyes meet, TK watches as Carlos’s eyebrows furrow in distress, the crease between them intensifying dramatically. He feels his heart split open in his chest, Carlos’s obvious pain stabbing him like a dozen knives. They’ve been that way since they first started dating, so completely linked that their emotions sometimes blend together into something they both carry for one another.

TK leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m right here, okay?” he murmurs, shifting to touch his lips to Carlos’s cheek. He feels his husband shake beneath him as an uneven sigh escapes his lips. “Can we take off your uniform? You can’t be comfortable, babe.”

There’s a pause as TK stays close, waiting for Carlos to respond. When he does, with a silent nod, TK presses another kiss to his skin before pulling back to stand up.

It’s a slow process, but he doesn’t care. He gets Carlos into a sitting position, and item-by-item he undresses his husband, starting with his belt and shoes. He notices that Carlos’s gun is missing and he’s relieved to know that, despite whatever happened today, his husband wasn’t out of it enough to not put his firearm in the safe. As each article of clothing is removed, TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’s exposed skin.

His husband, usually so large and physically imposing but now so small and reserved, stares up at him as he completes his task. Finally, Carlos is left only in his boxer briefs and undershirt, and TK quickly undresses down to the same before taking his husband’s hand and pulling him to lay back down on the bed, this time the two of them laying face-to-face. He notices that Max has moved to his own bed in the corner, happy to let TK take over as caregiver now that he’s home.

“Thank you,” Carlos breathes out, his first words striking hard after such a heavy absence. They’re close enough that TK can feel his breath on his face, and he takes a moment to rub their noses together, bringing a hand up to run his fingers along Carlos’s jaw.

“Of course,” TK responds just as quietly, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

TK is relieved when Carlos immediately nods, though he says nothing at first.

“I’m here when you’re ready, okay? Take your time,” he confirms, scooting closer to press their bodies fully together. He stares into Carlos’s eyes, watching as his usually warm brown irises swim with tears that refuse to fall. He’s terrified, having no idea what could’ve happened for Carlos to react like this, his mind supplying the absolute worst-case scenarios. Then, suddenly, as if he’s dragging the words through his throat from his core, Carlos stutters out just two words.

“Maureen called.”

TK’s brain stops short, every explanation that his brain had been expecting vanishing into thin air at Carlos’s response. He feels like he’s been shut inside of a walk-in freezer, every inch of his body erupting in one long, chilled-to-the-bone shiver. Through the roaring in his ears, he hears himself let out a stuttering gasp. He can feel a prickle at the corner of his eyes as his mind pieces together Carlos’s behavior with news from Maureen, and he closes them before a tear can fall, trying to take a deep breath to calm down.

They’ve been struggling through the process of adopting a child for almost a year and a half, cycling through stages of hope and grief almost daily. They were warned, multiple times, that adoption was a complicated and long journey towards starting a family, especially as gay men in Texas with high-risk jobs. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the pain of getting a little closer each time before it all came crashing down with a single call from Maureen, their adoption counselor.

“It’s okay to cry, Ty,” his husband says, a hand coming up to caress his cheek. TK, suddenly overwhelmed, feels his face crumble as a laugh-sob crawls up his throat.

“You stole my line,” he chokes out, opening his eyes again to find Carlos staring at him through his own tear-filled eyes. “Why didn’t you call me, sweetheart?”

“I missed her call,” Carlos explains, his voice thick with emotion, “and couldn’t reach her until I was on my way home. I didn’t want to ruin the end of your day, too.”

This is the third time they’ve actively pursued an adoption opportunity; the previous two times, they did everything they could to remain realistic, reaching a point where they wouldn’t talk to anyone else about it. They’re not superstitious, exactly, it’s just that the more they talk about it, the more they plan and consider what life will be like with a child. They got even further this time, and maybe dared to hope too much. TK watches as Carlos continues to grieve for the lost children they’ll never have, and it breaks his heart every time.

“It kills me to think of you dealing with this alone,” TK worriedly admits, pulling Carlos closer. His husband shifts to press his face in TK’s neck, his favorite place to be, and TK grips him tighter as he feels Carlos shake with new sobs.

“I really thought it was going to happen this time,” he cries softly, TK feeling his tears finally fall onto his neck. He squeezes his own eyes shut, his own tears falling as he presses his face into Carlos’s dark curls.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

“What if it never does?” Carlos questions after a moment, and TK can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s voicing his greatest fear out-loud for the first time.

“Hey,” TK hedges, pulling back to take his husband’s face in both hands. He stares into those deep brown eyes and knows that he would give anything to bring back their unmatched warmth. “You, Carlos Strand-Reyes, are going to be a dad, okay? Your heart is so big, your love is so strong, and I know that you’re meant to share it with someone who will admire you as much as I do. Someone that you and I will raise and love and adore more than anyone else on this earth. That’s our story, Carlos, that’s what we decided, and just because we haven’t gotten to that chapter, it doesn’t mean we’re going to rewrite it, okay? It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, I know it will.”

Carlos just stares at him when he goes quiet, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes glisten with fresh tears.

“I love you, Ty,” he gasps, pressing in to claim TK’s lips with his own. It’s a hard, desperate kiss, full of the lingering grief and sudden emptiness that the day has brought, but like every kiss they share, it’s also filled with overwhelming love and comfort, the kind that only they can provide to one another.

When they break apart, Carlos presses their foreheads together. “You’re going to be the best dad in the world, you know that?” he whispers, nudging their noses together.

“I’m not so sure,” TK laughs gently, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s lips, salty from their tears. “You’ll probably have me beat.”

“I’m serious, Ty,” Carlos presses further, his tone making that clear. “The way you take care of all of us, the way you care for me… I can’t wait to see you with our child. It’s going to be breathtaking.”

“How about a tie then?” TK relents, a smile growing on his lips. “You and me, Best Dads in the World.”

“That’ll be one lucky kid,” Carlos laughs, wrapping his arms around TK’s waist.

TK feels his heart clench in his chest as he watches his husband’s eyes crinkle, their familiar warmth gradually reappearing.

“You have no idea,” TK agrees, tightening his grip on Carlos, their closeness like a salve for their mutually broken hearts.

In each other’s arms, they begin to heal.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #tarlosweek2020 #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing

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gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years

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For the ultimate ship meme, Lion and Doc? I'm sorry, I'm LionDoc trash-

it’s all good!! whenever someone sends in an ask, i get an excuse to talk/write about one of my interests! really, it makes me so happy to be able to create content that people hopefully enjoy!! 💝💝💝

General:

How long will they last? - until the end of time, babey

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - it was love at first sight but then they started talking i do think it was some form of ~interest~ in one another at first sight, but then all that drama and lack of communication happened so they didn’t really allow themselves to even dream about the possibility of a relationship. HOWEVER! once lion joined rainbow and they talked their shit out like people who know how to cope, there was a period of a few months that is now referred to as The Four Months of Pining™, during which glaz did a lot of paintings where the subject (who usually bears an uncanny resemblance to doc or lion) is staring at something (or someone) longingly. he calls it his french period. when they finally get together, a LOT of money changes hands. and goes straight into sledge’s pocket (he was the only one who bet that it would take them this long). diana gets a brand new collar (handmade), bed (handmade), dish (handmade), and many new toys (some handmade, some store-bought. sledge’s craftsmanship can only get him so far)

How was their first kiss? - you know how the french are supposed to be super suave and confident??? and how gay people are trying their hardest but they’re just Not Good at things????? (i know these are stereotypes but stay with me). well, with their 5/8 french blood (i hc one of doc’s parents is fully algerian while the other is half french, half algerian), and their 4/4 gay blood, they have an 81.25% chance of success in matters of the heart. sadly, that 18.75% chance of failure came into play during this situation. picture it. doc and lion. romantic, home-cooked dinner. le festin is playing in the background. they’re holding hands over the table. suddenly, doc’s cat goes into labour. all hell breaks loose. lion is getting flashbacks to his son’s birth, so now he’s hyperventilating. doc carries him to the couch and turns on the fan so he can cool off and catch his breath, before carefully moving his cat, Rayie (arabic for gorgeous, pronounced rye-ah) to the living room in his handmade Birthing Box, then grabs a pile of blankets and a heat lamp and situates himself on the ground nearby so he can help her if she needs it. once the kittens are born (they’re twins!! Sadiqi is the boy, and Amirti is the girl!!!) doc makes sure they’re nice and warm and that Rayie is recovering, and gives her pets while she cleans her babies. once the happy family is all settled in for the night, doc walks over to the couch and just. lays down on top of lion. once he’s gotten over the adrenaline of the birth, he takes lion’s face in his hands and says “promise me you’ll be more calm if we ever decide to have kids” and gives him a BIG smooch while lion’s just short-circuiting like “does he know i have a son???? did i forget to mention my son?????? also what about these kittens??? are they not sufficiently childish to count as children????? DOES HE WANT KIDS????? does he want to marry me??????? wait why is he getting so clo-”

Wedding:

Who proposed? - lion. it was the day of their two year anniversary (yes i AM saying they got together the august after outbreak don’t @ me) and they were on vacation at doc’s family’s Secret Beach House. they were vibing on the balcony, watching the sunset, when lion suddenly clears his throat. doc turns to look at him and finds his boyfriend down on one knee, looking like he might flee to Bermuda. he’s reaching for something in his pocket. doc starts laughing. lion, completely misunderstanding his reaction, flushes and stammers out an apology. doc sees this, and immediately stops, though he’s still smiling gleefully as he catches lion by the biceps, then reaches into his own pocket and pulls the ring he was going to give olivier. they exchange rings, giggling like little kids, and spend the rest of the night making out on whatever surfaces are available.

Who is the best man/men? - for lion? montagne. (his son is the ring bearer and doc’s niece is the flower girl). for doc? rook. he’s so happy he gets to participate in his dad’s wedding

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - for lion: finka. for doc: twitch

Who did the most planning? - both of them!! do you know how hard they worked to ensure the ceremony was valid in the eyes of both of their religions

Who stressed the most? - s e e a b o v e

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - lion’s parents. they tried to call him during the reception but doc’s grandma grabbed his phone and started cussing them out, talking about dishonor and how they tried to disown him so they’re not his parents anymore, and besides, his new family absolutely adores him, so really, it’s their loss. once she hangs up, she pulls lion into a hug and he calls her his favorite, if only, grand-mère

Sex:

Who is on top? - who’s topping? lion. but sometimes doc gets bitchy so he gets to set the pace if you know what i mean

Who is the one to instigate things? - they are both lowkey horny 24/7 so 👀👀👀

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now (only because they do get to see each other fairly often. if one goes on a long mission without the other, once they get back they will bump it up to a 10 real quick)

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - idk long enough ig. maybe longer if someone feels they��ve been left ~unsatisfied~ they might go a few more rounds ;))

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - ok it depends on what they’re doing but usually it’s one or two each, but on ~special~ occasions it’s either doc getting edged and denied for hours, OR doc getting forced to come over and over again until he’s begging for something, whether it be more or a goddamn break even he isn’t really sure. either way he’s crying and lion is consistently asking if he needs to safeword and otherwise checking in because they may like it rough but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - unless someone’s hormones and organs get fucked, zero

How many children will they adopt? - probably none?? idk they’ve already got lion’s son and they’re both busy enough with work so

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - NEITHER!!!!! DISGUSTANG!!!!!!!!!

Who is the stricter parent? - god i wanna say both. like lion and his attachment to rules??? but doc and his Mom Friend energy????? but ig lion BUT HE’S NOT STRICT TO THE POINT HE’S A BUZZKILL OR ANYTHING HE’S JUST RESPONSIBLE (he will NOT allow his husband and son to go vandalize the property of some islamaphobic brits, as much as he agrees with the sentiment)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - doc will only allow vandalism if it’s in the name of righteousness. meaning, he’ll allow their son to spray paint the walls of a goddamn walmart with shit like “eat the rich” and a portrait of robespierre and a guillotine, but it is a HARD NO on defacing places like the library or community center (unless he has a good reason to do so). lion spends his time praying and making sure his son knows which acts of civil disobedience are acceptable and which are distorting their goal

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - doc. he (privately) dreams of retiring (eventually) and living out his lifelong dreams of being a househusband. so

Who is the more loved parent? - SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE IM GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS. but ig lion??? BUT ONLY BECAUSE THEIR SON HAS KNOWN HIM LONGER. doc is half Dad and half Cool Uncle Who Gives Me Spray Paint And Tells Me To Make Myself Heard (to clarify, i know doc is a pacifist, but im kinda projecting my own sentiment of “we’ve tried to be peaceful but you wouldn’t give us the time of day. now that we’ve “acted out” we’ve gotten your attention, and rest assured, things are going to change.” he won’t hurt anybody, he’s just tired of having to be everyone’s “muslim friend” and educating people on things they could google themselves)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - it used to be lion out of necessity, but when people started asking about his “wife” he was really torn between telling them that he and his son’s mother separated, but now he has a partner and his son seems very happy about it. when doc finally attends a meeting with lion, people really struggle to hide their shock. a few clunky but well-meaning “we support you”’s and “we’re sorry for everything that’s been going on”’s later, doc has used his charm to make friends with literally everyone. from then on, he is on pta duty on behalf of lion and his ex

Who cried the most at graduation? - lion! his parents purposefully didn’t show at his, so it’s a big deal for him to show his son just how proud he is. doc tears up a little too, but manages to mostly keep it together so he can support lion, who spends most of the day heave-crying about how proud he is into his husband’s shoulder. gustave just pats him on the back and tells him that they’ll run out of donuts if they don’t get to the concession stand soon

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - doc. civil disobedience, baby!! he has never been caught. lion fears the law after his youth, so he tries to avoid any visits to law enforcement. he also can’t stand to see his son behind bars

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - doc. househusband, remember?

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - doc, but only because he can be a bit of a spice supremacist. he has to get his ingredients from these very specific farms and markets or else his great grandmother will begin manifesting in their house to curse them

Who does the grocery shopping? - doc, bc he does NOT trust lion to not just sweep all of the microwave ramen and kraft mac n cheese into the cart then sprint to self-checkout

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever possible. doc and maestro live by the philosophy “don’t do anything halfway” if they’re going to go through the trouble of making a meal, it will have multiple courses.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - doc is more of a salad eater but only for ease of consumption with halal laws. he adores filet mignon

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - lion! maestro enlists himself as assistant head chef after walking into the base’s kitchen one day to find lion covered in flour and lying facedown on the floor, crying

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - also lion! though he’s memorized doc’s order at all of their favorite restaurants, so he usually just gets take out and puts on a big show of being a “tired housewife who works in the kitchen all day just for this one meal” and setting up the table so it’s all nice and romantic

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - lion. he tried crème brûlée once. never again

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - lion. organization is everything to this man. doc helps with laundry and such, but for the most part he leaves organization to lion and his systems (think leslie knope levels of planning and organization)

Who is really against chores? - neither! they both understand that teamwork makes the dream work, baby!!

Who cleans up after the pets? - doc, since lion’s already asked him which color hanger should represent “clothes i can tear off my husband before we fuck” and he needs a Moment

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - neither. they don’t own a broom

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - lion because of the deep-seated catholic urge to appear perfect in front of others, and doc because people will gossip, olivier!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - lion. he immediately called doc into the room and asked “is this your stash of drug money?” doc, who had been asleep because it was 3 in the morning on a saturday, just stares at him

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - it is so bold to assume they don’t shower together to “cut costs”

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - lion is known in their neighborhood as the man who walks cats. there is a facebook page where people post pictures of him walking his cats. vigil is an admin

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - LITERALLY EVERY HOLIDAY GETS DECORATIONS. lion makes his own for the muslim holidays since there really aren’t many “of good quality” in stores. when they first started dating, doc came home to find his house covered in ramadan decorations, and lion standing precariously on a ladder, trying to string up fairy lights while learning how to pronounce important arabic words. needless to say, doc cries

What are their goals for the relationship? - mutual joy and contentment!!!!

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - doc. he’s sleepy

Who plays the most pranks? - lion, but they’re stupid ones like replacing certain pictures with danny devito. doc gets back at him by replacing pictures of jesus with ewan mcgregor, and putting yoda into his nativity scene. lion doesn’t notice

#ask #anonymous #r6s doc #r6s lion #doc/lion #ass alert!#could you tell i forgot whether or not lion's ex and son had names #thank you for interacting!

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