#i refuse to believe they didn’t spend AT LEAST a week just in a honeymoon period | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blu-joons · 3 years

Text

Pre-Wedding Nerves ~ Kim Seokjin

You tried your hardest to ignore the sound of knocking at your door as you unpacked the last few bits in your suitcase, but as it became more persistent, you knew you were in for a long night.

“Jin, go away,” you whispered as you walked past the door to your hotel room, “the boys will wonder where you are if you stand outside my room for much longer, I’ve got to get ready too.”

“Surely you can spare five minutes,” he requested, pressing his ear against the door, “it’s not like they can start the party without you anyway, it’s your hen party, they’ll all just have to wait.”

Your head shook as you glanced at your appearance in the mirror, knowing that you had plenty to do still before you met up with your friends and family later that evening. With Jin outside too, you knew that it was just one problem after another for you.

“I can spare you the rest of my life tomorrow,” you tried to remind him, “why can’t you wait instead? It’s only until tomorrow morning.”

He gently laughed in reply, “tomorrow morning is far too long for me to wait.”

“You’ve waited months on tour without a problem,” you protested, determined to keep to the way that things were meant to be. “You shouldn’t be here, that’s the end of it.”

His head shook, not that you could see him. “You were the one that text me and said that you were nervous about tomorrow. What kind of fiancé would I be if I didn’t come over and make sure that you were doing alright? I don’t want you to be nervous.”

“It’s just the way things are when you’re getting married,” you frowned, leaning against the door frame, “it’s natural to be nervous, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Jin remained outside of the door, refusing to give up, even if he couldn’t use your nerves as an excuse, he’d find a way to get in and see you one way or another.

“I can’t be sure that you’re alright until I see you,” he continued to push, knocking gently against the door once again. “Five minutes is no time at all, and it’s not even the evening yet, it’s hardly like we’re breaking tradition.”

With a sigh, you opened the door just a crack, enough that the two of you could see each other, without being able to touch each other. A pout formed on Jin’s lips at the distance between you both as he studied your face.

“Look, you can see me, and I look fine. So, can you please just go now Jin?”

“No, you still look nervous,” he teased, trying to push his hand in between the gap that you’d left from the door to the frame. “I mean, you’ve seen me now, you might as well push the boundaries and let me in at least for five minutes Y/N.”

“You won’t just stay for five minutes Jin, I know what you’re like,” you replied.

His head shook back at you, trying his hardest to create an even bigger gap that he could fit through. As you watched him struggle, pushing against the door, you knew that you’d won, opening the door up and sending Jin toppling into the room.

A snigger came from you as he quickly tried to find his balance, straightening his outfit as he regained his composure. You watched on with a smile as he cupped either side of your face once he was back on his feet.

“Are you alright?” You laughed, unable to hide the smile on your face.

Jin’s eyes rolled back across at you as his eyes flickered around your face before landing on your lips, drawing your face towards him to allow him to press a soft peck against them. With a smile on his face, he pulled away, pleased to have gotten his way.

It had always been the way with you, you always knew how to push Jin until the very end. It was that which he adored the most about you, the push and pull that you had which drove him into knowing you were the one and marrying you.

Once there was a distance between you both again, Jin met your eyes. “Don’t be nervous about tomorrow, it’s bound to be the best day of our lives.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what made you so nervous tomorrow, whether it was the pressure, the hecticness, or the eyes that would be on you. But Jin was right, it was most definitely going to be the best day of your life, marrying your best friend was all that you wanted.

“I think if you’re still nervous though, it would be a good idea for me to stay here tonight,” he tried to explain, “you need someone to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t run away.”

“I’m not going to run away,” you sighed, slapping your hand against his chest.

His shoulders shrugged innocently in response, “I still think it’s better for us to be on the safe side, and that bed looks huge as well.”

“Jin,” you scolded, “it’s not happening, so please just give it up.”

“I know how to get to you,” he teasingly warned, “trust me, if I’m not in that bed by the end of tonight then you can pick the entire schedule for our honeymoon.”

Your eyebrows raised at his challenge, with differing opinions on the attractions you wanted to visit on your week away, it was something that you were more than happy to accept, and make sure that you didn’t back down on too.

“A couple of drinks down in me at this hen party tonight and the nerves will disappear,” you assured him, “as you will be in about thirty seconds time too when your time is up.”

“You’ve really been counting five minutes?” Jin exclaimed, scoffing quietly when you held your wrist up to show him your watch. “I can’t believe that your serious.”

You were determined to stick to your promise for Jin and stick to the tradition that had come with weddings for years, one night was something you could sacrifice in exchange for the rest of your life.

“I guess, if you’re really sure about being left here by yourself, I should go,” Jin trailed off, reluctantly taking slow steps towards the door, “but just know that the offer still stands about being staying here with you, all you have to do is text, and I’ll be here in no time.”

“Jin, go,” you laughed, pushing him towards the door, “I don’t need you here.”

As he reached the doorway, he spun on his heels, looking hopefully towards your eyes for one final time, only to be let down once again.

“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out,” he joked, walking across the threshold to your room, “you’re going to sleep all alone in that huge bed.”

“First of all, I’m not kicking you out,” you reminded him, “and second of all, I’d like one last peaceful night’s sleep before I have to spend the rest of my life with you and your snoring.”

“I do not snore,” he tried to protest against you, “I just breathe heavily.”

“You snore,” you corrected, “so tonight you can go and snore around the rest of the boys for one final night, until tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

“Me too, now go; the boys will be waiting.”

---

Masterlist

195 notes · View notes

angry-geese · 3 years

Text

To You Someday

Choso x Reader

Warnings: sfw. mention of periods, and blood, but overall its sfw. afab reader.

Summary: some very self indulgent fluff with choso comforting the reader when they're on their period. i needed a bit of fluff to balance out the fact that for the last like month ive posted nothing but smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Without fail, once a month you have this conversation. And once a month, without fail, he thinks you're dying.

He didn't quite understand the first time you explained it. You aren't dying, which is what caught him most off guard. He saw the slightest bit of blood on the sheets once—an accident really, you didn't know your period had started until a few hours after it happened—and quite literally thought you were dying. You spent a while explaining to a frantic, grieving Choso that you weren't about to die. Nobody can bleed for that long and not die. You have to tell him that you, in fact, can, and that this is something a lot of people deal with. He gets that it's normal, but seeing you in pain stresses him out.

It doesn't seem to matter how many times you tell him to not fuss over you, he always will. Worrying is in his nature. You're precious to him, he's not about to let you slip through his fingers. God forbid you try to lift something heavy, or try to do anything physically taxing. Choso insists on doing everything for you. However well meaning, his presence is a bit suffocating at times.

Having spent most of his life in a test tube, with only the faintest notion of what goes on around him, modern life was a bit of a shock. He had little notion of how the modern world works. Everything seems to happen so fast, the world is so loud and bright and busy. He’s overwhelmed. It feels like the second he gets the hang of one thing, something else comes up entirely. But even as he’s frustrated, or down on himself for not getting something, you’re always there to comfort him. You never judge him for needing help.

You like to think he’s adjusted well over the past year. With the help of you and Yuji, he’s settled into a normal(ish) life. It’s hard to consider life normal when you’re constantly dealing with curses, but there’s some sense of normalcy to it.

You were one of the first people to help him. It was a long process. Even today he’s still adjusting as the world changes around him. He owes you a debt he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to pay you back for. You tell him he doesn't owe you anything, but he still insists on paying you back. With what, he’s not certain yet.

He didn't understand his feelings for you at first. Choso cared about you deeply—he cared about Yuji—but his love for you was so much different than his love for his brother. Choso has always been affectionate. Not just to Yuji, but to you too. When you spend so much time together, it's hard to not love someone, even if just a little bit. He saw you as a friend; and then he didn't.

He found his every waking moment consumed by the thought of you. You weaved your way into every corner of his mind. From the moment he woke up, to the moment he shut his eyes, he was thinking of—or seeing things—that reminded him of you. Even in his dreams too. You made his heart race every time you talked to him, to the point he thought he was dying. Everything made his heart flutter. His brother had to explain to him that no- that's normal when you have a crush.

He loved you.

He’s never been so in-love.

He was head-over-heels, in fact. He still is. Even as you moved past the honeymoon phase of your relationship, he still was so hopelessly in love. Maybe it never ended, the two of you only grew used to being around each other. The others constantly make remarks about how they’ve never seen two people so in-love.

Yuji was the first to help him figure out his feelings. Choso had no clue what a crush was. He knew he wanted something more than friendship. He wasn't sure what. But he wanted it. Though you were less vocal with your feelings, everyone around you knew. From lingering gazes, to your eagerness to spend time with him, it was obvious. It seemed like everyone but the both of you knew.

Yuji wanted to help him plan some big reveal. He spent weeks scheming an elaborate plan. It had to be special. He wanted it to be a big day for the two of you. He wanted you to know, but he wanted his reveal to be special.

Choso’s confession was entirely accidental.

You had come back from a job injured. It wasn't anything fatal, but he had warned you not to go alone, and in turn spent the entire day worrying about you. So when he came back to find you bleeding out all over your bathroom counter, he panicked. A little blood never bothered him. Until it was your blood. He pulled you into an impulsive kiss.

And when he told you how he felt, you grinned wider than he’d ever seen. He wasn't surprised that you felt the same way, more that he was relieved. Surprise isn't the right word for it. Yuji let it slip that you felt the same way.

It’s become a nightly routine for the two of you. In the evening, while watching a movie or getting settled down for the night, he’ll have you play with his hair. He says it helps him sleep. You can believe it. He’s usually knocked out within minutes of you starting. Tonight is no different. He drags you out into the living room, sitting you down on the couch. He picked the movie- one recommended by Yuji. It was a bit longer than you usually watch, but you don't have anything planned tomorrow, so you don't mind staying up a bit late. Work can wait. You deserve a day off.

As you settle into your nightly routine, he’s by your side, insisting on helping you. His presence is a bit more overbearing than usual, but you don't think much of it. It doesn't take him long to get comfortable, settled between your legs, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Choso’s head leans back against your stomach, hands folded in his lap. He lets out a soft sigh as you comb his hair out of his face with your fingers, tucking it behind his ear. Your nails are getting long, and feel nice against his scalp. His hair is softer than it looks. It's getting long- it's past his shoulders now. Goosebumps raise along his shoulders as your fingers brush across his skin.

You’re the first person to touch him in such a way. You’re the first to hold him like he’s precious. Before you, his only physical contact was from fighting. Affection in such a way was completely foreign to him. He was touch starved, to say the least.

And then you came along and looked at him like he was the world.

He shifts so he’s nearly sitting in your lap, arms looped around your neck. His face buries in yours—his—shirt. Choso has lots of baggy, comfy clothes that you constantly steal. It smells like you, and laundry soap, and a bit of your shampoo. He likes letting you borrow them, you always return them smelling like you. As his head leans against your chest, he can hear your heartbeat. It's steady, but picks up in pace as he stretches to press a kiss to your lips. Blush dusts his cheeks, turning the tips of his ears and nose pink.

Choso runs cold naturally. Most of the time he refuses to cuddle unless you’re wrapped in blankets. You have to reassure him that you’re not as fragile as he seems to think you are. He knows. But that doesn't stop him from worrying.

Painkillers weren't exactly working. The pain is manageable, albeit coming and going in waves. Manageable is about the best things get. Choso seems to know something is up before you do. Call it a sixth sense or whatnot. Though you don't appear to be ill, you're not acting like your usual self. He doesn't remember you getting injured. You're acting like you're injured. That worries him greatly.

"You're hurt?" He asks.

“I’m just a bit tired.” You say. "It's nothing to worry about."

Slowly he untangles himself from your limbs. You try to pull him back into your lap, but let him go when he insists.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, gently pushing your shoulders back.

There’s no use arguing. He’s hellbent in his ways, especially when they come to you.

You wouldn't say you were paying attention to the movie, so much as you were present for it's duration. You flop back on the couch, your attention turned to the tv.

He tries to remember everything you normally do that helps. Heating pads, tea, fluffy blankets and extra pillows. Small creature comforts he’s never really lived with before. He didn't see a need for them until he had them, and then he found himself unable to live without them.

Choso disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a cup of tea, and a heating pad. Heat helps sore muscles. As he settles back onto the couch, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist, your back against his chest. The warmth helps with your cramps a bit. The heat feels nice against your sore muscles.

His fingers trace across your skin, memorizing every inch of your body like he’s reading a book of braille, soft and loving. Choso isn't shy in how he appreciates your body. He could spend hours running his hands over your body, tracing every dip and curve of your form. He wants to know your body better than he does his own; what you like, how you feel, what you taste like. In public he has to have an arm around you, or his fingers laced with yours. Everyone has to know you’re his.

One of your hands finds his, your fingers lacing together. He holds your hand to his cheek before planting a kiss on your knuckles. Soft locks of his hair pool around his head, tickling your neck.

He’s never been so hopelessly in love.

Though your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you still fight to stay awake. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch, tucking it around you. The warmth, combined with the feeling of his arms around you, threatens to lull you to sleep.

Choso is there when you fall asleep. And he’ll be there long after you wake up.

#jjk x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #cw periods #cw blood #choso #choso fluff

198 notes · View notes

tanoraqui · 4 years

Text

okay I have to do this today because even I wouldn’t do it after the godforsaken finale airs, and it’s basically my specialty and I did spend like an hour thinking about it last night while washing dishes. Definitely partly inspired by @words-writ-in-starlight‘s insightful post on everything Supernatural did wrong, and apologies in advance to all the characters for dragging them into anything related to Christian mythology:

Wei Wuxian’s parents die in a house fire when he’s 6(? I refuse to look anything up) months old

Jiangs are a hunter family I guess? That whole disaster of a family dynamic, except WWX dips out at some point to be idk an environmental activist bc at the time, that seems like the larger threat to the whole world. “Mom and Dad went on a hunting trip and they haven’t come back”, “bitch” “jerk”, 2 brothers in a beat-up old car, you know the drill

Jins are also an old hunting family, but more Men of Letters energy - they have a fancy bunker and do research and avoid getting their actual hands dirty. Jiang Yanli ducked out of the active hunting life a few years ago to be happily married to her peacock and settled down with a baby and she’s fine. We’re not going to bother Yanli. She’s safe and happy and doesn’t need to involved in any of this

so, WWX is the demon blood child developing exciting new abilities like telekinesis, mind control, exorcising demons by sheer force of will...etc, and Jiang Cheng is the Righteous Man. Lucifer, Michael, etc.

s1-3 probably proceeds more or less as spn canon...which I more or less remember...by the time they find their parents at the end of s1, Jiang Fengmian is...ugh, we probably shouldn’t kill him offscreen, I mean, we should probably meet him before he dies. I guess. Madam Yu lasts longer because I’m way more interested in her. But we do know that both Jiang parents are totally inclined to fling the boys into a metaphorical or literal escape boat and go hold the line for as long as possible, so...that’s spn energy...

Xue Yang is the one who’s like “fuck yeah, demon powers” and opens the gates of Hell, because I want him to have nice* things

*nice for Xue Yang

from characterization rather than memory, I’m 90% sure that Dean tried to hide his crossroads deal from Sam, but Jiang Cheng does it...better. I think it does come out, though. Right before the hellhounds do.

here’s where it starts to go farther off from spn canon. Jiang Cheng crawls his way out of the grave, gets stalked by a menacing presence that explodes windows for an episode, incidentally can’t find WWX...*Lan Wangji voice* “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition” (a baller line then and a baller line now)...and then the next episode starts with them all awkwardly standing around, and JC is like, “ok well let’s go find my brother then”, and you think there’s going to be an mdzs-riffing JC+LWJ Roadtrip To Find WWX...and they’re immediately attacked by like a dozen demons

in fact, the first time we see WWX in s4 is here, wherein he goes toe to toe with an angel and...holds his own. that’s new and terrifying! also is leading a squad of demons??

because here’s the thing: for the last 3(?) months, there’s been war in hell

because unlike Some People Mooses, upon finding out that his brother’s soul was legally nearly-owned by a crossroads demon, heir-apparent-to-Satan!WWX went, “actually fuck that” and kicked open the door of Hell (metaphorically, not loosing any demons this time) and was like, “who do I have to beat the shit out of to get a specific crossroads contract around here”

this did not work, obv. He didn’t know until it was too late, Lilith had already snapped up the contract, etc. etc.

obviously he also tried to offer himself instead, and got rejected for some reason

Since Jiang Cheng died, however, there’s been a war for control of Hell. Leading one side, Lilith, the Original Babe, who wants to break all 666(?) seals keeping Lucifer bound and in the meantime, break the Righteous Man so Heaven won’t even have Michael’s destined host ready for the Final Battle. Leading the other side, Wei Wuxian, infamous upstart, who wants to rescue the Righteous Man and restore him to life, tear Lilith’s guts out through her nose, and also stop her from doing the Lucifer thing because Wen Qing explained that yes, that’s a Thing, and it’s Bad.

Wen Qing! I’ve decided to combine Bela and Ruby’s roles and let WQ be both the cool badass example of how demon deals can go Bad and the demon deliberately leading our heroes astray for most of s3-4. Wen Qing is a very new demon; she used to be some sort of herbalist/witch but then she sold her soul in a crossroads deal to cure her brother of some lingering illness. 10 years of happiness and then boom, hellhounds. WQ is so obviously competent, though, that they (Lilith, I guess?) immediately offers her a job, with the promise threat that gee, that’s a nice brother you’ve got there, even with his Designated Chronic Health Condition getting all relapse-y. It’d be such a shame if something were to...happen to him...

we find this out at some point in last s3 I guess? some Monster of the Week case involves WN as a witness or something, or possible next victim, and WQ shows up to be A Normal Amount Of Invested In This, while desperately trying to avoid actually interacting with her brother (who thinks she’s dead). YES, the truth comes out; YES there’s a tearful reunion

now in s4, Wen Ning is fine actually, health-wise, bc he maybe made a crossroads deal with Wei Wuxian personally, and Wen Qing may or may not have admitted that she’s supposed to be working for Lilith to get WWX ready to host Lucifer? Or potentially that comes out later, idk. Either way, she’s 100% his top lieutenant in this exciting Hell War they’re waging

[insert whatever the hell (ha) happened plot-wise in s4 of supernatural]

we obviously mix up the relationships, too, bc it’s like, *LWJ internal monologue* I’m too young to remember my brother Lucifer as he was before he Fell, but surely Wei Wuxian is his Heir and Destined Vessel in truth, for he is Charismatic and Charming and Makes Me Feel Things, with his Clearly Feigned Righteous Drive and Compassion for All God’s Creatures and - why does heat keep pooling in the lower abdomen of my vessel when I look at his lips, which I am definitely doing a Normal and Not-Weird Amount - I’m just keeping an eye out for the famed Silver Tongue, and not in any way wondering how it would feel in my own mouth -

it’s actually DEFINITELY plausible for Lucifer to still be released even if our designated Heir Apparent is using his demon powers to his full potential and no one’s lying to each other about their motives. You just need to let Lilith be more scary too, and especially bc by “no one” I mostly mean Wen Qing; the angels are still totally hiding the fact that they, too, want to jumpstart the shit out of this apocalypse. LWJ decides at the last minute that that’s a bad idea actually, gets himself discorporated to send JC to intercept WWX because he accidentally releases Lucifer, etc. etc. Oh yeah, the boys were def fighting before this, bc JC has actually fairly reasonable concerns about the sort of things WWX is getting up to in his quest to become King of Hell...

...I neither know nor care what happens in s5

it does end with both Lucifer and Michael locked in the cage probably, bc I rather liked that solution. Fuck both of ‘em, basically.

I was toying with the idea that WWX also found Madam Yu in whatever hellish torment she was suffering after making a deal so her idiot son(s) would survive, and she was leading forces for him in the war against Lilith as well. If she came back to life somehow, body and all, it’d probably be compelling if she offered her own body to Michael - bc it’s her lineage! - and we’re all led to believe that she’s, uh, being a bitch and actually wants to risk destroying the world in order to destroy all demons...but then she seizes back control and flings herself/Michael and Lucifer into the Pit, because she’s just That Hardcore?

which means we’d actually have had her around and having characterization for most of s4-5, too, which would be fun

More importantly, it ends with newly crowned King of Hell Wei Wuxian appointing Wen Qing as Queen-Regent and ditching to go on an indefinite honeymoon with his new angel boyfriend (they’re going to fuck for like three weeks straight, then roll up their sleeves and go conquer Heaven in the name of free will), and Jiang Cheng gets to live out his hitherto-unknown-to-himself life’s ambition to be the sugar baby of the Queen of Hell. It’s very Hades/Persephone, except he goes back down to the underworld at least once a month. He gets his own demon squad whom he trains up in all the hunting techniques and it’s gr9. Wen Qing is reforming the crossroads deal process to make it more fair to the humans.

the end

Addenda:

it should go without saying but Jiang Yanli is definitely a recurring character, like, at least once a season there’s a filler episode where they go to Jiang Yanli’s for dinner and have to get along as a family, and also do the much easier job of defeating some sort of terrible demon that gets loose in the bunker and turns the evening into a horror movie. She’s their main research/emotional check-in person, a la Bobby, more often appearing in later seasons when there’s, uhhh, more to emotionally check in about.

Jin Zixuan is actually a perfectly competent hunter; he’s just a priss and we don’t Like him

we like Mianmian, though. Oh, I guess the official Hunter’s Guild or w/e tries to declare WWX a public enemy on account of the whole “King of Hell” thing and she’s like “actually what if you’re morons and assholes?” and joins hte team in s4 or 5? Yeah.

idk how the 3zun disaster happens in this ‘verse but I do encourage it to be happening in slow motion as a recurring subplot for several seasons. NMJ is a hunter, LXC is obv an angel, and JGY is...I wanna say one of the more human monsters, like a vampire? Or, you know, something that could be born from JGS sleeping with someone/something he shouldn’t have

#mdzs #the untamed #supernatural #ficlet #my fic #spn #ugh it'll probably fuck up hte bullet points again

158 notes · View notes

terrm9 · 4 years

Text

Fall On Me

Words count: 4 200 Warnings: mentions of fertility issues, other than that just fluff Author’s note: This is the fic I have thought so much about. I have written something, then stopped, then written again, thought about it and considered for so long if I should post it or not. I have never been this nervous posting something, probably because there is a big part of me in it - therefore, any kind of feedback will be greatly appreciated!

After four years of dating and their first year being married, Chiara and Ethan find out that there are still surprises in store for them.

Important notes: My MC (Chiara) has been diagnosed with an immune system disorder that makes it close to impossible for her to become pregnant. It has been stated in Destination fic as well as in Already Gone series, but for those who haven’t read those, it’s important to know that so you understand the context.

There are three more important notes at the end (they would kind of ruin the experience if you read them in the beginning). PLEASE read them, especially the first one, it is really important to me.

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

As Ethan stepped into his office, the sight of sleeping Chiara on a couch didn’t even surprise him. It was the fifth time in the last ten days. She would throw an apologetic smile at him along with a muttered “I just need to catch a quick break” and half an hour later, he would find her fast asleep in his office.

At this point, surprise has been replaced by worrying. Ethan knew his wife and he knew that she could go weeks without rest. This behavior was strange, to say the least.

He approached the couch and knelt next to it, gently brushing the hair off her forehead. Placing a soft kiss on it instead, he whispered: “Chiara, are you okay?”

She opened her eyes slowly at first, obviously confused about the whole situation. Realizing what was happening – again – she sat up rapidly, trying to come up with a good excuse.

“I am sorry, Ethan, I must have fallen asleep. I just wanted to sit down for a while and-“

“It’s okay,” Ethan cut her off and took a seat next to her, hugging her waist. “I’m just a little worried about your constant tiredness.”

Sighing, Chiara rubbed her eyes and leaned into his chest, shaking her head slowly.

“I am fine. It’s just… ever since we’ve gotten back from the Europe, the work has been crazy. Two weeks and I feel like I need another vacation.”

Visiting Europe has become their habit through the years. It started with a trip to Tuscany on Chiara’s third year of residency, continuing with a quick trip to France after getting engaged, honeymoon in Greece and finally this year, when they decided to spend their first wedding anniversary on a three-weeks long roadtrip through Scandinavia, finished with four days in The Basque Country, so that Chiara could pursue her dream of visiting Guernica, the village on Picasso’s painting.

Chiara was right about the work being absolutely crazy ever since they’ve gotten back and throwing a glance at the paperwork on his desk, Ethan was very well aware of the exhaustion they both felt. Still, he managed to get through his days without needing a nap.

“Let me draw your blood so that I can run some tests. Maybe it’s just iron deficiency, but I want to be sure,” Ethan murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “And go home to sleep.”

She turned to him, brows furrowed as she shook her head again.

“Absolutely not. I am fine, just a little weary. Just make me a cup of coffee and I’ll be fresh.”

Ethan stood up to make her the coffee, however he had no intention of letting her stay in work. He would bet that she was just ‘resting her eyes’ while he was turned to the coffee machine. As a doctor, there was one particular idea about what her exhaustion was about. Noticing such symptoms with anybody else, he would be absolutely sure. But this was Chiara he was thinking about and so he didn’t allow his mind wander into the direction it was tempted to.

“I am serious, Rookie. You are no use here, hardly keeping your eyes open. Drink the coffee, let me take your blood and go home to rest. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

She rolled her eyes and took the cup from his hands. Just as she was about to sip the coffee, she scrunched her nose in an utter disgust and looked up at him.

“Did you change the brand? This smells… ugh, I am not as demanding as you when it comes to coffee and even I can tell that this smells worse than the cafeteria coffee.”

Ethan bit his lip to hide the jitteriness overwhelming him at those words.

It was the same coffee brand they’ve been ordering for more than three years.

It was all adding up.

He shrugged as casually as he could and said: “Yeah, I tried a new roastery and it’s disappointing. Lets get you out of here, shall we?”

Chiara wanted to fight him, to stubbornly stay and prove him that she was more than capable of working, but she had to admit that she’s probably never felt as exhausted. And the vision of their king-sized bed was way too tempting.

Relucantly, she nodded and followed Ethan into an empty patient room to get her blood taken.

To say that Ethan was nervous would be an understatement. He could’ve gone home a long time ago and instead he found himself pacing back and forth in his office, waiting for a nurse to page him that Chiara’s results were ready.

Still, when his pager went off, he all but jumped on the spot.

Seven minutes later, Ethan thanked the nurse and clutched the results in his hand, fighting the urge to read them right then and there, not quite believing his own self to be able to not to break down is the results confirmed the diagnosis he suspected.

Breathing heavily as he reached his office, he sat down on the couch – the very same Chiara was sleeping on just hours ago – and with trembling hands opened the file to see the results.

His eyes widened and just then, his vision turned blurry. New lump formed in his throat and his heart kept beating as if his dear life depended on the rate it was beating. His hands trembled so hard now that the file fell on the floor.

He was right.

Ethan could feel the tears damping his cheeks and falling on the fabric of his navy blue pants and he realized that he couldn’t care less about crying while at work.

Throwing his head back, he stared at the ceiling, letting the tears fall down freely, his heartbeat slowly calming back to normal.

He knew he needed to go home and share the results with Chiara. He just didn’t know how he should do such a thing.

Chiara’s peaceful five-hours long nap has been interrupted by the sound of keys clinking in the door.

Stirring lazily in a blanket, she sat up and smiled softly as Ethan walked into the living room.

“You look exhausted. Hard day?” she asked, patting the seat next to her. “Come here.”

Ethan slumped down on the couch next to her and kissed her cheek instead of answering, his mind a battlefield of ideas on how to tell Chiara. As a doctor, he knew that he needed to be honest and straightforward. As a husband, he didn’t feel comfortable throwing such a bomb into her face as if she was simply a patient.

Noticing how lost in his head Ethan was, Chiara grew concerned.

“Did something happen, Ethan?”

He blurted his next words out before he gave any of his battling ideas a chance to win.

“I’ve got your test results.”

“Am I dying?” Chiara laughed, putting her hand on his bouncing knee to calm him down. After Ethan refused to look back at her, she sensed that something was indeed wrong. “Oh, I am dying, aren’t I?”

Chuckling, Ethan finally turned to look at her and kisser her temple. “You are not dying.”

“But?” Chiara raised her eyebrow while Ethan took the hand on his knee into his own, stroking Chiara’s knuckles softly with his thumb.

Taking a deep breath, he stuttered: “I… we… you are pregnant, Chiara.”

Chiara’s face grew paler than he’s ever seen it and there were big drops of cold sweat on her forehead. Ethan squeezed her hand to stop it from shaking, but with no success.

At last, Chiara let out a choked whisper.

“What kind of sick joke is this?”

For a second, Ethan almost felt offended by her accusation, as if she didn’t know him, as if she didn’t know that he would never joke about such a thing. Then, however, he recalled his own reaction when he found out just an hour and half before and could understand the Chiara’s one.

Instead of another word, Ethan reached down to grab his bag from the floor and pulled Chiara’s file out. Handing it to her, he made sure to point his finger at the row that indicated the elevated level of hCG in her blood.

Her eyes widened as she recognized what he was showing her and she gasped audibly, looking up at Ethan and down on her own file, back and forth until she found her lost voice.

“But… how? That’s impossible.”

“Nobody has ever said that it was impossible, only that your chances were extremely low, close to none.”

Chiara started to reminisce the last days, trying to connect the dots now that she knew the result.

The extreme fatigue, waves of nausea here and there, those could easily be read as literally anything else. She missed her period, but her cycle has never been regular, so she hardly considered it anyhow important, especially knowing that travelling has always made things even more irregular for her.

“Did you know?” she whispered as she turned to Ethan, who was staring at her intensively.

“I didn’t know. I became suspicious few days back, when you wouldn’t let me go anywhere near your chest,” he grinned. “Together with the exhaustion, the possibility of pregnancy found its way into my mind, but I didn’t even want to think about it, knowing how very unlikely it was. It was your disgust with the coffee today that made me almost sure that you were, in fact, pregnant.”

Chiara stared at the results again, not quite absorbing what they were saying. For almost six years, she believed she could never be pregnant.

“You need to see your gynecologist tomorrow, of course,” Ethan cut the silence again. “But as Dr. Ramsey, I can say for sure that you are pregnant.”

He scooped her into his arms so that she would sit on his lap and hugged her shocked form tightly. Chiara’s lips were still slightly parted and she was blinking just a little bit faster than usually as his words – and their new reality – sank in.

When it finally did, she wasn’t able to contain the emotions any longer.

First sob escaped her mouth, followed by another and so much more, accompanied by huge tears falling from her eyes.

Ethan gently pulled her head closer so that she was resting it against his chest and peppered her hair with soft kisses. Even though his share of tears has already been shed in a privacy of his office, feeling Chiara’s shaking body as she cried all those happy, surprised tears, he couldn’t help but cry along quietly with her.

“I am going to ruin your shirt,” Chiara mumbled against his white Oxford, noticing how her mascara stained it.

Ethan let out a quick laugh, his voice thick with emotions as he replied: “I couldn’t care less.”

After what could have been minutes or hours, they breaths steadied, however their positions haven’t changed at all.

They were both quiet for a long time and one could say that they were lost in their own thoughts when really, they were both lost in the very same thought.

Parents. They would become parents.

They talked about adoption on a regular basis at this point, both open to the idea that two or three years from now, they would go for it, that they would become parents to a kid that was left alone.

But those were talks about future. Hypothetical.

This was real. In less than a year, they would be parents to their very own newborn.

“Are you happy?” Chiara whispered, looking up at him with a gentle smile on her lips.

Ethan kissed her forehead before responding.

“I can’t imagine being happier.”

Biting her lower lip, Chiara asked again: “Are you also a little bit…scared? Because I am.”

Laughing loudly at the adorable confession, Ethan nodded: “God, I am terrified. Being a father, that brings so many possibilities to screw it up.”

Chiara cupped his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss, their first real, deep kiss that day and as his tender lips moved over hers, she knew that there would be no better father for her child than Ethan Ramsey.

One of the perks of being in her sixth month of pregnancy was the fact that her belly could easily serve as a tiny tea table. Right now, a large bowl of popcorn was sitting on her rounded torso as she was sitting on Bryce’s couch.

“The poor kid,” Bryce muttered as he noticed.

It was another Bryce & Chiara movies Wednesday, a habit that started even before Chiara and Ethan got together and carried on through the years.

With her third trimester slowly approaching, Chiara has been even more insistent on attending those, knowing that once she would give birth, they wouldn’t be able to watch a whole movie in one sitting.

“How is Ramsey? I haven’t seen him in the hospital this week,” Bryce asked as he put a glass of water in front of Chiara and played with a remote control to find the movie on Netflix.

“He’s busy with paperwork, so he mostly stays in his office these days,” Chiara explained. “Other than that, he has read two books about child’s development this week, so I guess everything’s as usual.”

Bryce laughed loudly and just before he pushed the ‘play’ button, he turned to Chiara: “Do you remember when you told me about not being able to have kids all those years ago?”

Chiara nodded, that day somehow still fresh in her mind.

“I told you back then, that you only had to find someone whose sperms will be stubborn enough to beat your own stubborn immune system, remember? Well, I was damn right,” he grinned smugly, earning a popcorn thrown into his head from Chiara.

On the other side of Boston, Ethan and Naveen just finished their meals and moved into the living room, glasses of scotch in their hands.

A comfortable silence accompanied them, their talks about work already finished.

Taking a few gulps of his drink, Ethan leaned into a couch with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s going to be a girl,” he let out finally, his soft smile soon turning into a wide, happy one.

They only found out yesterday. Ever since beginning of the pregnancy, they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to know the gender of the baby or not. After long discussions – and Sienna’s suggestion that they should do a blood tests that would reveal the gender, give the results to her without looking at them so that she could organize a baby gender reveal party – they came to the agreement that they would only find out if the ultrasound would show it. And yesterday, in Chiara’s 25th week of pregnancy, the doctor informed them that their ‘princess’ is growing beautifully.

Neither Chiara nor Ethan wanted any kind of baby party organized – much to Sienna’s disappointment. This pregnancy – most likely the only one they would ever get to experience – has been such precious, sacred thing to them that they tried to keep everything as private as possible. They found joy in their bubble of emotions only two people who never believed would be this lucky could feel.

“A girl!” Naveen clasped his hands together and beamed even brighter than Ethan. “A granddaughter!”

Ethan nodded, the warmth in his chest expanding even more at Naveen’s words.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” he asked, his curious nature not letting him keep the question to himself.

Shaking his head this time, Ethan said: “Since the beginning, we’ve known that if it was a boy, he would be named Dorian after Chiara’s father. There have been some ideas about girls name, but nothing seemed right so far.”

The first idea they both had was Dolores. It came naturally to Ethan, knowing that she named her son after him and that his friend’s name deserved to be celebrated. Still, he didn’t want to be reminded of the tragedy every time he would talk to his daughter. Chiara has been very supportive about the name Dolores, knowing better than anyone what it felt like to want to name her child after someone important to her. But she never insisted. She could tell that simply thinking about Dolores Hudson made Ethan’s heart ache and she would never push the name on him.

“You seem lost in your thoughts,” Naveen commented. “Are you worried that your daughter will inherit your insufferable stubbornness?”

Ethan laughed at that, raising an eyebrow at his mentor and his friend.

“As if you didn’t know Chiara. The kid is going to be insufferably stubborn no matter who she takes after.”

The truth was, he did wish their daughter would take after Chiara. The idea of raising his own little self terrified him more than he would ever admit and on the other hand, the idea of having someone else as bright as Chiara in his life made his heart happy.

“Well, no matter who she takes after, it’s safe to say that she will be a strong girl,” Naveen smiled, raising his glass. “Beating all those odds and finding her way into your life, she is already a bigger rebel than any of us. She will be a warrior and a mighty one, I am telling you.”

When Chiara returned home, she found Ethan deep in a research on his laptop.

He registered her presence only when she sat down next to him, taking a glance on the screen only to find yet another study about children.

“Hey,” he kissed her cheek and closed the laptop. “Did you have a good time?”

She laid down, putting her head into his lap. “The movie was terrible. I could feel my braincells leave my body. Other than that, yeah, it’s been great. Bryce is so excited about being an uncle to the ‘little queenie’. He said, to quote him, that he will make sure she sees him as an example of how gentlemen should treat their ladies, so that when she is dating she doesn’t settle for anything less than what she deserves.”

“That’s really… nice of him. Thoughtful,” Ethan nodded; however, his furrowed brows didn’t quite match the words. “I don’t think we need to talk about dating just yet, though.”

Of course he will be that kind of a father, Chiara thought, laughing.

“What were you reading about?” she decided to change the topic.

“Oh, I’ve been looking up baby carriers online and so I decided to read some articles and studies about them.”

“Baby carriers, huh? I never took you for someone who would want that.”

Ethan shrugged, fighting the temptation to read her all those articles. Instead, he went with simply pointing some interesting information.

“It helps to build a healthy attachment between a child and their parent. You know, you are carrying her in your body for nine months, you have a possibility of breastfeeding, you two are naturally connected. As a father, I would like to… increase my chances of bonding with my child properly,” he swallowed harder that he wanted, hoping that Chiara didn’t notice just how nervous about this whole attachment thing he’s become.

He was so excited to meet their daughter, to hold her in his arms, it sometimes surprised even him.

But there was another part of him. The one that constantly doubted his ability to be a good father. For such a long time he didn’t believe that he could ever find himself in the role of a parent and he got used to the idea, no matter how painful. He used to remind himself that it would be for the best if he never had them, that as a man unworthy of his mother’s love, he wouldn’t know how to be the parent his children deserved.

Everything has changed with Chiara in his life and now he was about to become a father. And he was scared that it would be the one task he would fail. He tried his best to be prepared – reading books and studies and articles, watching videos on how to bath a newborn and taking notes about how many layers of clothing was suitable for various temperatures. He made arrangements with Naveen and his team so that everyone knew that he would be stepping down as a head of diagnostics once the baby is born, with Aurora becoming the director of the team.

For more than fifteen years, he’s been building his career and he’s been proud of what he achieved. But there was no feeling connected with his career that would make him as proud as the idea of being a decent father.

“According to these studies, the position they are in while in a carrier helps the newborns with their colics and also there are children that don’t like being in a stroller and the carrier helps them to fall asleep.”

Chiara nodded, noticing absolutely clearly how nervous and overwhelmed Ethan was. She also knew why, even though he would never share his concerns with her.

“I kind of believe that. When I was born, I was the perfect baby. You know, the kid that everyone envied when my parents talked about me. I slept most of the day and then the whole night, I never cried, I smiled at everyone. My parents would joke that sometimes they forgot they had me. And Liam was very similar from what I can remember – and what my mother told me. He was such a cutie and even if he couldn’t fall asleep or calm down, a little bit of bouncing in a stroller and he would be fine,” she laughed softly as she was reaching the end – and the point – of her monologue. “My parents were so proud. They always said that they could only create the good sleepers that never cry. Probably encouraged by the belief, they decided to have a third child and God, Alicia was such a difficult baby. She would always cry and never sleep. The only thing that calmed her down enough to sleep was when someone carried her in their arms and walked around the house – so that’s what my parents did. All the time. Sometimes, when they’ve gotten too tired or needed to do something, they would put her into my arms – let me remind you that I was seven – and I would be in charge of walking around the house. I bet they would appreciate the baby carrier back then.”

Ethan chuckled softly while stroking Chiara’s wild hair and after a while decided to tell her the real reason he even browsed the internet this evening.

“I might have found a name.”

After Naveen left, something he’s said resonated with Ethan.

‘She will be a warrior and a mighty one.’

Ethan never cared about meanings of names, he didn’t even know the meaning of his own name until this evening. And yet, despite his best principles, he decided to search girls names that meant warrior or ‘strong, mighty’.

And he found it.

Mighty in battle.

It clicked.

“What name do you have in mind?” Chiara asked.

“Matilda.”

Chiara didn’t even try to suppress her surprise, expecting anything but Matilda. What surprised her even more, she loved it on the first hearing. It indeed was the one.

“I have also thought about the name a little bit,” she admitted. “I found one that I would love to be a second name for her.”

Nodding, Ethan encouraged her to spill it.

“Nekane.”

“Nekane? I have never heard of it.”

“It would be surprising if you did,” Chiara smirked. “It’s the Basque form for Dolores. And you know, since now we know for sure that our daughter has been conceived in Spain, I think it would be rather fitting. It would still carry the honor of Dolores, just in a different form.”

Matilda Nekane Ramsey.

They both loved the sound of that.

It sounded like their daughter.

After sharing another silent moment full of love, peace and understanding, Chiara decided to go to bed and Ethan promised to follow her as soon as he’d finish the study.

When Ethan stepped into their bedroom, Chiara was already asleep, lying on her right side. Climbing to the bed, he laid down on his left side so that he could face her. Suddenly, not knowing how the idea has gotten into him, he was shifting down slightly until he reached her round stomach.

Moving the fabric of her cotton shirt higher, he put his hand over her belly and did something he had never done before.

“Hello, Matilda,” he whispered nervously. “This is Ethan speaking. Your father. Or your dad, as you will probably call me. We have never really talked before but the annoying knocking you hear sometimes, that’s me stroking your mom’s bump.”

He paused for a while, composing his thoughts.

“I am sincerely scared about how this whole father thing is going to work for me, but I promise you as I am trying and I will by trying for the rest of my life. I have done a lot of bad things in my life, Matilda and I can’t take them back. They are part of who I am. But looking at your mother and thinking about you makes me realize that both of you are part of who I am too. And I don’t know in which point of my life the universe decided that I have shared enough kindness to earn your presence but I must have done something right to deserve you in my life, right?”

Kissing the skin of Chiara’s stomach, he added: “I just really hope you inherit your mother’s patience and kindness so that you will forgive me every time I fuck things up.”

Biting his lip, he grinned to himself before saying one last thing to his Matilda.

“Please don’t tell your mom I said ‘fuck’, she would be furious.”

*** *** ***

1) as someone who is mother herself, I realize that topics of pregnancy, infertility issues, children in general are extremely sensitive - in this particular fanfiction, Chiara has gotten pregnant against the odds while on vacation. PLEASE note that I, by no means, am trying to say that if you are suffering from fertility issues, taking a vacation/reducing stress/changing the environment would definitely help you. There are some cases /that I know of/ in which it did help, however I would never dare to say that it’s the solution. I just need to make sure that I acknowledge how difficult and sensitive the topic is.

2) I really, really wanted to write a pregnancy fic, I had this idea in my head for very, very long time. However, I also absolutely love the idea of Ethan and Chiara adopting a child (I think especially Ethan would be fond of it, since he knows what it feels like to grow up without a parent) and so here is a little HC for after this story - Matilda is indeed the ‘miracle’ and their only biological child and when she is around six years old, Ethan and Chiara decide to adopt ophraned twin girls Luna and Siria. Purposefully girls, because I can see Ethan not trusting women after his mother leaves him and feeling like no woman could ever love him truly and boom suddenly there are four women in his life that love him more than life itself and he is proven wrong every day.

3) the story about the name Matilda is so funny/tragic that I have to write about it - I love the name, always loved and believed that I would name my daughter Matilda one day. My man hates the name so it’s off the table and I always knew that little Ramsey would be named Matilda to pursue my dream at least fictionally. When I was looking for some photos at David Gandy’s IG, I found out that his very own daughter is named Matilda. Whoa. Then, I was on a search for a faceclaim for Chiara and boom - the girl is named Matilda. Ooops. And only when this fic was finished and I googled the name Matilda for some reason, I found out that there is kinda popular person named Matilda Ramsay and I was just like okay screw this. But I couldn’t bring myself to change the name, so here it is. Sorry not sorry.

Taglist: @takemyopenheart @maurine07 @senseofduties @mercury84choices @flightlessbirdiee @udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @ohchoices @adrex04 @queencarb @archxxronrookie @choicesfan10 @whatchique @drariellevalentine @gryffindordaughterofathena @mvalentine @doilooklikeiknow @custaroonie @secretwolfdreamertree @jamespotterthefirst

#also I could've named the fic COUCH #since 90% of the story happens on some #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction

132 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 5 years

Text

Spilled drinks and comfy sweaters

This is for @renazeros who very rudely came into my messages with an Xicheng idea too good to pass up on. <3<3

Jiang Cheng hates dinners at the Lans. He doesn’t know how he always gets roped into these things, because apart from being Wei Wuxian’s brother, he has nothing to do with them.

Wei Wuxian is the one who snatched himself a Lan, so he should be the only one who has to attend these things. Jiang Yanli certainly never has to go, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand why the same isn’t true for him.

He’s tired of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji acting like every minute of every day is their goddamn honeymoon, tired of Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao glaring daggers at him for reasons Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand, and he’s especially tired of Lan Qiren scrutinizing his every motion and word.

The only person who makes these dinners even the tiniest bit bearable is Lan Xichen, and Jiang Cheng refuses to think about why that might be.

There is no way Lan Xichen could ever be interested in someone like him, not with successful and beautiful people Like Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue present, and statistically it’s very unlikely that two Jiang family members should manage to snatch up a Lan.

So, no. Not thinking about that.

Instead, Jiang Cheng tries to figure out why the hell Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue keep glaring at him.

Both have a very different feel to them; Nie Mingjue’s glares seem to be more a warning than anything else, while Jiang Cheng gets the impression that he should drop dead from Meng Yao’s glare.

He refuses to, of course, but it only seems to enrage Meng Yao further.

“Hey,” Jiang Cheng lowly says to Wei Wuxian, when he catches him without Lan Wangji for a change. “Do you know what’s up with Meng Yao? He seems ready to kill me.”

“Who isn’t?” Wei Wuxian jokes, but he gets serious a second later. “I noticed that, too, actually. I don’t know. I asked Lan Zhan but he doesn’t seem to know either. But he thinks you should be on the look-out for Meng Yao, Lan Zhan doesn’t trust him at all.”

“Reassuring,” Jiang Cheng mutters and turns his eyes back to Meng Yao, who is already watching him. “He’s going to murder me,” Jiang Cheng goes on and Wei Wuxian pats his shoulder.

“If that happens, you can at least be reassured that Lan Xichen will be inconsolable,” Wei Wuxian tells him with a wink and before Jiang Cheng can do anything more than take a surprised breath, Wei Wuxian bounds over to Lan Wangji.

Immediately Jiang Cheng becomes overly aware of eyes on him, and he busies himself with getting something to drink.

“You seem troubled,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from besides Jiang Cheng, and he only jumps slightly in surprise. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is good,” Jiang Cheng replies with a small smile, unwilling to explain to Lan Xichen that his friends leave him unsettled. “How are you doing?” he asks, because for all that Lan Xichen is the only reason he even comes to these things, Jiang Cheng didn’t have a lot of chances to speak with him yet.

“I’m doing very well,” Lan Xichen tells him with a huge smile and Jiang Cheng’s stomach swoops, like it always does when Lan Xichen seems this happy.

It’s a problem.

“Great,” Jiang Cheng says and they turn around to go to the table, when someone slams into Jiang Cheng and spills their red wine all over his shirt.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, as the unpleasant feeling of wet and cold clothes sticking to his chest spreads out and he glares at Meng Yao.

“Oh, gods,” Meng Yao says. “I’m terribly sorry about this,” he goes on, but Jiang Cheng can see the calculating glint in his eyes, and he just knows that this wasn’t an accident. “It seems like you should go home, you’d catch a cold with a shirt this wet.”

“It seems like it,” Jiang Cheng presses out, but he relaxes when Lan Xichen presses a warm hand to the small of his back.

“You can take one of my shirts,” Lan Xichen tells him and swiftly leads Jiang Cheng away from the dining room and deeper into the house.

“You don’t have to,” Jiang Cheng tries, because really, at this point he is more than ready to just go home, manners be damned.

“I want to,” Lan Xichen reassures him. “It’s no hardship. And besides,” he tacks on as he leads Jiang Cheng into his own bedroom, “dinners without you are always terribly boring.”

Lan Xichen isn’t looking at Jiang Cheng as he says it, for which Jiang Cheng is glad, because he flushes bright red at that.

He watches Lan Xichen go through his wardrobe, and he’s still deciding if it’s worth it to tell him not to bother, when Lan Xichen already offers him a soft looking sweater.

“This should work,” Lan Xichen gently says and Jiang Cheng can’t say no to him so he takes the offered piece of clothing.

“Can I change somewhere? I should probably also clean up, at least a little bit,” Jiang Cheng says as he tries to unstick his shirt from his chest and Lan Xichen gets oddly flustered.

“Oh, yeah, of course, the bathroom is just through there,” he tells him, pointing to a door and Jiang Cheng quickly walks into it.

He takes off his shirt, cleans his chest as best as he can, and then slides on Lan Xichen’s sweater.

It’s slightly too big on him—the collar a little loose, the sleeves a little bit too long—but it’s warm and comfy, and Jiang Cheng refuses to admit that he smelled the fabric.

He imagines this must be what it feels like to get a hug from Lan Xichen.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head at that thought--how much more stupid can he get--and leaves the bathroom.

Lan Xichen is waiting for him, and his eyes seem to catch on the sleeves of the sweater, because he blinks a few times and doesn’t move at all.

“It’s a little bit big,” Jiang Cheng admits, playing with the hem of the sweater, and his voice seems to shake Lan Xichen out of whatever stupor he found himself in.

“It looks good on you,” Lan Xichen admits, and then promptly turns around. “We should probably get back to dinner now.”

Jiang Cheng stares after him when he practically flees his own bedroom, and he wonders just how long it will take him to get that compliment out of his head.

Dinner after that is interesting, to say the least.

Nie Mingjue is still throwing him glances, but they lost a lot of their force and he even smiled at Jiang Cheng once. Lan Qiren seems strangely pleased and exchanges more than the bare minimum of pleasantries with Jiang Cheng. Meng Yao on the other hand seems to only be more angry than before and his glares only gained in intensity, if such a thing is even possible.

Lan Xichen himself is constantly at Jiang Cheng’s side and Jiang Cheng catches him throwing him secret glances more than once.

It makes Jiang Cheng nervous, causes him to play with the sleeves of the sweater, but that only seems to make it worse.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to feel about any of it, so he excuses himself halfway through dinner to go to the bathroom.

He spends all of his time there trying to calm himself down, reminding himself that it doesn’t mean anything, and breathing in Lan Xichen’s scent that’s clinging to the sweater.

When he finally leaves the bathroom, only a little bit more stable than when he went into it, Nie Mingjue is waiting for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng mumbles out, and steps to the side, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t make a move to enter the bathroom.

“Listen,” he starts, and dread already settles in Jiang Cheng’s stomach. “I know you’re worried about Meng Yao but he won’t hurt you,” Nie Mingjue says and while the statement in itself is confusing enough, Jiang Cheng also doesn’t believe him.

Which must be obvious on his face, because Nie Mingjue winces.

“Okay, he won’t hurt you seriously. For all that he is petty and jealous, he couldn’t hurt Xichen like that.”

“I—have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jiang Cheng admits with a frown, because why should it be his problem that Meng Yao is jealous?

“You’re wearing Xichen’s favourite sweater,” Nie Mingjue tells him, and Jiang Cheng flushes at that.

“He gave it to me,” he defensively says and Nie Mingjue nods.

“Yeah, he did. When a fully equipped guest room is right over there,” he says and points towards a door at the end of the hall. “Clothes and all included.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at that revelation and when he turns back towards Nie Mingjue he finds that the other man has already gone back to the dining room.

Jiang Cheng can’t help himself; he goes to the guest room and opens the closet, only to find shirts and sweaters in all sizes and colours.

There really isn’t a single reason Lan Xichen should have offered him his own.

Jiang Cheng must have spent more time here than he thought, because Lan Xichen shows up after a while.

“Hey,” he awkwardly says and Jiang Cheng whirls around.

“There are clothes here,” he says, and Lan Xichen grimaces. “There is no reason at all for you to offer me your own clothes,” he goes on and Lan Xichen has the decency to flush at that.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he mumbles and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him.

“Did you put Meng Yao up to this?” Jiang Cheng demands to know and now Lan Xichen goes frantic.

“No! I mean, he did it because of me, but I didn’t put him up to that!”

“Explain,” Jiang Cheng orders him, because he’s getting all kinds of mixed signals here, and he doesn’t know how to handle any of them.

He needs Lan Xichen to clarify this.

“Meng Yao spilled his wine on you because he’s jealous,” Lan Xichen admits.

“Of what?”

“He confessed to me a few weeks back,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng doesn’t like the sinking feeling in his stomach at all.

“And?”

“And I told him I’m in love with someone else,” Lan Xichen goes on.

Jiang Cheng wants to ask what the hell any of that has to do with him, but before he finds his voice, Lan Xichen goes on.

“I told him I’m in love with you,” Lan Xichen admits, and he looks down at his feet, so he doesn’t see how wide Jiang Cheng’s eyes go at that.. “He didn’t take that very well, to be honest, and he hoped you would just leave tonight after he spilled the wine on you. It was on purpose.”

“And instead you gave me your favourite sweater,” Jiang Cheng weakly says and Lan Xichen’s head snaps up.

“How do you know that?”

“Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng gives back and suddenly it clicks for him. “He’s been trying to give me the shovel talk through glares,” Jiang Cheng says and smacks his forehead. “That’s why his glares felt a lot more friendly than Meng Yao’s did.”

“I’m so sorry they are behaving like that,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath.

There will be enough time to focus on Meng Yao’s and Nie Mingjue’s behaviour later—and Lan Qiren, too, Jiang Cheng guesses—but right now, only one thing is important.

“You’re in love with me,” Jiang Cheng says, a little bit dazed by the whole thing, and his heart beats faster when Lan Xichen blushes at that.

“Yes.”

“And you gave me your favourite sweater,” Jiang Cheng goes on.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen repeats, and then shuffles his feet in the most adorable way imaginable. “I’m sorry, I just--you look good in my clothes,” Lan Xichen admits, voice so low Jiang Cheng almost doesn’t hear him, but he does and it’s enough to make him smile.

“I like wearing your clothes,” he admits and raises the collar to take a deep breath. “It still smells like you,” he goes on and it seems to be enough to jolt Lan Xichen out of his shyness, because his head snaps up and he takes one long look at Jiang Cheng, before he marches forward, frames Jiang Cheng’s face with his hands and pulls him in for a kiss.

Jiang Cheng is frozen for a second, because this is quite unexpected, but he’s nothing if not quick on his feet, and so it’s not long before he slings his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck and leans fully into the kiss.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure if he’ll ever get over the embarrassment of Lan Wangji clearing his throat at the door, ordering them back to the table, but Meng Yao’s face when he and Lan Xichen show back up in the dining room holding hands more than makes up for that.

#bt writes #xicheng #the untamed #mdzs #getting together #jealousy #first kiss #clothes sharing #fluff

756 notes · View notes

rosethornewrites · 4 years

Text

Fic: I look up and see the bright moon

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Song Lan | Song Zichen, Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing, Granny Wen, Wen Qing

Additional Tags: Found Family, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Bunnies, Adoption, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, References to Depression, Anxiety, Blind Character, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: The Wei family has struggled, but that is in the past, and it is time to welcome a new family member.

Notes: Written for @sweetlittlevampire as part of the WangXian Lunar New Year Gift Exchange. This is also partly inspired by @angstymdzsthoughts, which has been chattering about a corporate espionage AU for a few weeks now. In the fic's base-time, that's occurred largely in the past and is background that led to the acquisition of their found family. The title is from the Li Bai poem, "Thoughts on a Silent Night." Li Bai was exiled and wrote poetry reminiscing about family and friends from whom he was separated.

AO3 link

-----------

When A-Yuan, with the kind of pleading adorable face only a five year old could muster, asked if they could adopt a pet bunny, and Wei Ying, knowing rabbits were his husband’s favorite animal, watched him hide his yearning to talk to their son about responsibility and finances like he was a little adult—and he suspected A-Zhan had gotten this very same talk as a child—he decided they needed to find a way to make it happen.

“We should adopt one,” he said, interrupting them.

Both of them turned to look at him, their expressions tinged with hope. A-Zhan’s made Wei Ying a little sad—they had never discussed pets, and perhaps he felt he couldn’t ask.

“A-Yuan is smart, and caring for a pet would help him develop a sense of responsibility,” Wei Ying argued. “We’ll need to research how much they cost and what they need and all that, but we’re doing well financially.”

There was a soft look on his husband’s face at the thought of having a rabbit. Anything that made A-Zhan look that soft belonged in their lives.

“It’d be a nice addition to the family. I’ve always wanted a pet, too.”

The last bit, he could see, convinced A-Zhan. Sometimes his husband would go without to avoid seeming selfish—sometimes didn’t even realize he wanted it—but if Wei Ying wanted something, he would insist he have it.

Wei Ying had found saying he wanted something A-Zhan did allowed his husband to indulge in what he had spent far too long denying himself.

“We will do research,” A-Zhan agreed.

“So, bunny?” A-Yuan asked.

“Bunny,” Wei Ying said.

A-Zhan nodded.

“After research.”

A-Yuan cheered, then insisted they all hop around the living room like bunnies.

He was somehow even more excited when A-Zhan told him they would learn all about bunnies through research. The kid was absolutely their son.

If there was one thing Wei Ying was good at, it was research—perhaps only second to his husband, who was almost obsessive about research. It made them a good team, and had enabled them to survive the last few years without having to dip too much into A-Zhan’s inheritance. Nothing could stand against them when they both researched how to solve a problem, but that hadn’t made the problems they’d faced over the last five years easy to deal with.

They tried not to obsess too much over the negatives: the corporate espionage accusation and Wei Ying’s subsequent blacklisting by the industry and disowning by the Jiangs. The threat of legal action that could have seen him in prison for a decade, if not more. Lan Qiren’s pressure on his nephew to break up with him, ending in an ultimatum.

It hadn’t mattered that he didn’t do it—the information-siphoning code may have originated from his workstation, but it had been done on a dummy user profile. Literally anyone could have done it, could have easily jimmied the lock to his office. He’d been set up. But that truth hadn’t mattered to the Lan corporate board or to Madam Yu.

Lan Qiren and Madam Yu had always hated him, anyway.

Uncle Jiang had never returned his calls or texts. That hurt far more.

Ugly accusations followed that he’d been dating A-Zhan just to rise in the company or gain corporate secrets—never mind he decided to work for Gusu Lan Tech right out of college to avoid the idea of nepotism working for Compu-Jiang would bring, that A-Zhan and he kept their work out of their relationship. Then rumors he had to be spying for Compu-Jiang, which had led to his disowning. Wei Ying ultimately changed his phone number and shut down all social media to avoid the journalists plaguing him and awful messages from people he had thought were his peers.

But there were positives. A-Zhan had believed him even if no one else did, and when the pressure had become an ultimatum, he had responded in the opposite of the way his uncle had intended: he’d liquidated his shares in the company, packed anything he couldn’t live without from the family home, and left Gusu Lan Tech with a politely-worded but clear resignation letter.

He had shown up while Wei Ying was packing in a panic to downsize his apartment (or something that would save money now that he no longer had a career, like maybe living in his car) and proposed to him.

Wei Ying hadn’t expected that, had expected to be dumped when he’d opened the door to find him on his doorstep, just one more awful thing to cap off a terrible week. He’d wound up crying for an entirely different reason, curled in A-Zhan’s arms murmuring “yes” over and over again between sobs.

Only Wei Ying’s adopted sister had attended their small wedding out of both of their families, and though she expressed regrets that Jiang Cheng couldn’t make it, the text messages he’d received made it clear his adopted brother would need time, if he ever came around at all. He hadn’t so far.

A-Zhan had changed his legal surname to Wei, which made it necessary for Wei Ying to change how he addressed his husband. Ultimately they decided to use 阿 in front of each other’s names. The first time A-Zhan called him A-Ying, he’d felt like his brain shut down for a bit, it felt so intimate—to be fair, it had been in the midst of some rather passionate celebration of their marriage.

The statement A-Zhan’s actions made in the industry had echoed far and wide, not always in a good way. He became a figure too controversial to touch, particularly for any company that wished to have good relations with Gusu Lan Tech or Compu-Jiang. Work options dried up for him, too. He also closed his social media accounts after dealing with abuse through them.

Their “honeymoon” involved finding a cheap studio apartment and applying to minimum wage jobs.

Gusu Lan Tech had decided not to pursue criminal charges. Or rather, Lan Xichen had, as chairman of the board, refused to pursue them, overriding the board’s bloodlust. He had contacted A-Zhan to congratulate him on the marriage, and stated it was a wedding gift to them. He had not reached out or responded to messages from his brother since, and A-Zhan had eventually stopped texting or calling him.

The next couple years had taught them to live frugally in a trial-by-fire sort of way, both of them struggling to find work, both of them battling depression over the situation that had destroyed their careers. Wei Ying’s feelings of guilt had exacerbated his, his sense things would be better for his husband if he’d let him go—that perhaps he could still let him go and get back what he lost. Miscommunication had nearly destroyed them both, but they had persevered and grown stronger together.

To survive, they’d left the San Francisco area, living expenses too high and with no family ties to keep them anymore. They’d worked jobs as baristas, stocking shelves at grocery stores, substitute teaching, waiting tables—so far from the financial career A-Zhan had gotten his degree to help with the family business, from the computer science that had been Wei Ying’s passion. Anything that put food on the table and paid rent, that kept them from dipping into A-Zhan’s inheritance or the proceeds of his stock sale.

They’d had to dip in a couple of times for emergencies, like when Wei Ying broke his wrist badly enough to require surgery. But as a matter of principle they tried not to.

Then Wen Qing had reached out, seemingly out of the blue. It had been years since either of them had seen her—not since college. Suddenly they were helping Wen Ning with independent app development in his Dafan Applications start-up, and living and working in an apartment building owned by a Wen family member who refused to let them pay rent and insisted they call him Fourth Uncle. Free rent was nothing to sneeze at in California.

Wei Ying had worried their involvement would cause problems, with them both being low-key blacklisted from the industry, but Wen Qing had pointed out both Compu-Jiang and Gusu Lan Tech dealt in computer hardware more than software or applications.

“A-Ning wouldn’t want to do business with anyone who believes that bullshit, anyway,” she’d said bluntly.

Now, several years later, the company was making a name for itself, and it turned out the software and app industry cared less about the allegations and more about product quality and deadlines—both things Dafan Applications had proven it made good on. Wen Ning and Wen Qing insisted they had much to do with it, with Wei Ying’s coding skills and A-Zhan handling the financial aspects of the company with the same careful frugality he applied still to their own spending.

Really, they were too generous. Dafan Applications had picked up several great coders when Nie Innovations had suffered a bad year and required restructuring, letting go of part of its workforce. Wei Ying hated that they had benefitted from the ill fortune of old friends, but the industry could be cutthroat, and at least the people Dafan employed could still feed their families.

Wen Ning had even started to develop a video game on the side with their help. A-Zhan was able to rediscover his passion for music, tapped to develop a soundtrack for it. It was a back burner project, but it was Wen Ning’s baby, and watching it slowly grow was another bright point in their lives.

They had been essentially adopted by the entire Dafan Wen family. Their found family had kept them going and checked in on them during the bad times. Like when Jiang Yanli wed and was unable to invite them—she had made Jin Zixuan stream the wedding so he could at least watch, but that was all she could do. Fourth Uncle brought champagne and they turned it into a viewing party so Wei Ying would feel less alone. When she had his nephew, who he was not allowed to meet. When they learned Lan Xichen was engaged via a news report. And later when Jiang Fengmian had suffered a mild heart attack and handed the reins of Compu-Jiang to Jiang Cheng, also learned via the news.

During the harder times, when they both sometimes found it difficult to function, Granny and some of the aunties brought lunches and dinners and A-Yuan to cheer them up, and Fourth Uncle came for mahjong and brought drinks, and Wen Qing harassed them into going out and getting fresh air and sunlight.

“Humans are big dumb plants,” she’d said. “And while we’re at it, drink more water.”

So they had started taking A-Yuan to the park every other day, then every day, sometimes even picnicking in the park for lunch. Working from home had perks.

Pretty quickly it was clear the activity did them some good, with Wei Ying having fewer rough mental health days. Though having something to look forward to every day probably helped on its own—it was always good to spend time with A-Yuan.

Granny eventually asked them to adopt A-Yuan because she was struggling to care for him alone. Since they had been helping with his care anyway, she felt they were ideal parents.

“He talks about you all the time,” she had told them. “He adores you.”

The paperwork was relatively easy, given that the adoption was mutually agreed upon. Going before the judge had been mildly terrifying, with Wei Ying worried his past would bite them in the ass. But it turned out to be little more than a formality, and then Wei Yuan was theirs.

Initially they had intended for him to keep his surname, but Wen Qing had insisted.

“He’s yours. Your son. He should have his dads’ name.”

One of the more joyous moments had been when A-Yuan had asked, about a month after the adoption papers went through, if he could call A-Zhan baba and Wei Ying a-die. He had previously been calling them both gege, but they hadn’t wanted to pressure him.

“Of course,” Wei Ying told him, abruptly realizing Wen Qing’s point.

“You’re our son,” A-Zhan added.

All of the difficulties of the past several years felt as though they had melted away in that moment, when A-Yuan smiled at them with his adorable chubby cheeks and called them a-die and baba.

If all the hardship had been a trade for that moment, it was worth it.

They were always made to feel welcome, never left to feel alone, and when they had become the adopted parents of A-Yuan, it made their status as family feel more official.

And now they would be adopting a bunny.

“It’s a bunny,” Wei Ying initially said. “How hard could it be to find a good bunny? Just throw it some carrots, and it’ll be fine!”

“Carrots do not have the nutritional value a rabbit needs, A-Ying.”

“What about Bugs Bunny?”

A-Zhan gave him a Look and texted him an article about child-friendly breeds that make good pets, and Wei Ying’s education began.

He learned, first off, that carrots were too high in sugar for rabbits, and the Bugs Bunny carrot thing had been a reference to a 1930s Clark Gable movie, which of course no one understood anymore.

(Wei Ying was further distracted by other facts about Bugs: the cartoon had single-handedly made the name Nimrod, the biblical hunter, into a synonym for idiot when the sarcastic comparison to Elmer Fudd flew over audiences’ heads, for instance. He also got lost on YouTube watching old clips.)

As it turned out, rabbits came in different sizes, some even almost the size of a border collie—and much preferable to a dog, in Wei Ying’s opinion. Giant Angora rabbits looked like little clouds, they were so floofy. But even though the Flemish giants and Angoras were perhaps his favorite breeds, they didn’t have the space for a rabbit so large. Even a medium sized breed would be pushing it. It wouldn’t be fair to the rabbit.

And so they looked into small breeds, seeking information on care and disposition, cooing with A-Yuan over bunny pictures for hours sometimes. Wei Ying could expect at least one text from his husband a day with a relevant link, and often returned the favor. They found a nearby rabbit-specific veterinarian, and she let them know what they would need in terms of desexing to prevent diseases, vaccinations, and maintenance needs.

Although A-Yuan was only five, they consulted him as well. They explained how bunnies needed to be cared for and needed exercise, and talked about the different kinds of bunnies and breed temperament. A-Zhan explained bunnies had shorter life spans than people, and so the bunny would live its whole life with them.

“It’ll die,” A-Yuan said, immediately understanding. “Like mama and baba before.”

Wei Ying nodded; he too was an orphan, as was A-Zhan. In some ways, that made the conversation easier. It was strange to put it that way, but he and A-Zhan could relate to A-Yuan’s experiences, and so he felt comfortable coming to them when he was upset.

“But we’ll do a good job taking care of the bunny so it lives comfortably and is happy.”

A-Yuan nodded, his expression serious.

“Granny said everything dies. I understand, a-die, baba.”

As a family they settled on the Holland Lop, which was an absolutely adorable breed, docile in nature and good with children. They managed to find a reputable breeder that handled small litters and didn’t overbreed, with the decision down to finding their rabbit.

The breeder emailed them when he had a litter born, and told them they’d get first pick in seven weeks.

That kicked them into overdrive, and they spent the time preparing the apartment, buying anything a young rabbit might want or need. A deluxe hutch, which they tricked out with a hammock, shelves and tiers, a woven cave for the bottom level, and dangly toys. Bedding. Water bottles and a feeder. Food. A litter box with bunny-appropriate litter. A larger collapsible enclosure for outside time. Pet gates for rooms off limits (like the study with wires bunnies might like to nibble). Willow pet chews. Tunnels. Toys, so many toys. Everything was made with natural materials—nothing plastic, A-Zhan insisted. And then there was bunny-proofing the apartment.

It was a bit like adopting A-Yuan all over again, except they had both known him and knew what to expect. In a way, this was scarier.

But things were steady and stable, finally, after nearly five years of struggling, and today it was finally time to adopt the newest member of their family.

On the way over, A-Zhan quizzed A-Yuan on bunny etiquette, somehow, Wei Ying joked, taking the fun out of bunny adoption.

They both ignored him, well used to doing so by now.

“Don’t move fast so you don’t scare them,” A-Yuan chirped in answer to the last question as they pulled into the breeder’s driveway.

“And no loud noises,” A-Zhan added. “So your a-die and I will silence our phones now.”

His husband was pointedly not looking at him, but he knew “loud noises” was meant for him. It was almost a running joke in the family, including the Wens, that Wei Ying couldn’t shut up.

Wei Ying didn’t bother to even roll his eyes, just fished his phone from his pocket to silence it while A-Zhan put the car—borrowed from Wen Qing for the afternoon, since car ownership was a luxury neither of them needed, working from home as they did—in park. He noticed a “breaking news” alert that had been emailed to him, but ignored it.

He looked up to find his husband frowning at his phone—it was just like him to check it even though it was almost always on silent.

“Okay, A-Zhan?”

“My brother called,” he replied after a few seconds.

Wei Ying sat up straighter, noticing the slightly troubled lilt of his tone. Lan Xichen had never reached out in the five years they’d been married.

“Did he leave a voicemail?”

A-Zhan shook his head. Most people wouldn’t notice, but he looked distinctly vulnerable. Wei Ying bit his lip. He was of the opinion that his husband’s brother had made him wait for five years for contact and could wait a bit in return.

But that was a little petty.

“Do… Do you want to call him back?”

There was a longer pause before A-Zhan shook his head resolutely.

“No. Today is for family.”

He put his phone back in his pocket and opened the car door, and Wei Ying paused to glance back at A-Yuan. Their son was often perceptive, and this was no exception.

“Bunnies?” he asked solemnly, his expression that of a child who knew plans could change with bad phone calls.

“Bunnies,” Wei Ying told him, smiling.

He was relieved when the boy smiled back; A-Yuan understood adults sometimes pretended things were okay when they weren’t, but he trusted them.

And, for the moment, they were. That could change, but A-Zhan was right: today was for family.

Apparently that didn’t count his brother anymore, but the bitterness he knew his husband felt could be handled later. After all, he felt his own; Jiang Cheng similarly hadn’t reached out in even longer, once he’d finished railing at Wei Ying via text.

He didn’t know how he’d react if his once-brother suddenly called him. If he hadn’t called when Jiang Fengmian had a heart attack, it was unlikely he ever would.

But for Lan Xichen to call…

The paranoid part of him wondered if A-Zhan’s brother had changed his mind, or if the board had somehow overruled him and he was to be charged after all. He wasn’t sure what the statute of limitations was for the crime they believed he’d committed, but...

Wei Ying only realized he’d spaced out when A-Zhan opened A-Yuan’s door to help him from his car seat. His husband’s questioning look had him pasting on a smile and hurrying to get out of the car.

A-Zhan steadied him when he nearly lost his balance and leaned in close.

“The statute of limitations was three years, A-Ying. It will be fine.”

He sagged in relief, leaning his forehead against A-Zhan’s shoulder briefly. His husband saw right through him, knew what thoughts were making him spiral. He took A-Zhan’s hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

A-Zhan’s lips twitched.

“Between us, there is no need.”

Wei Ying held out his other hand to A-Yuan, who took it with a sweet smile, and together they headed toward the front porch.

The door opened before they could knock, a man about their age surveying them with a bespectacled little girl maybe a little older than A-Yuan peering around his leg. She had the palest eyes he’d ever seen.

“We’re here about the rabbits,” Wei Ying said, offering a smile.

The man offered a small one in return.

“You’re looking for my husband, then. You must be the Wei family he mentioned. Please come in.”

They took their shoes off inside the foyer.

The man introduced himself as Song Lan, and Wei Ying briefly wondered if he had Americanized his name, which was his surname and which was his given.

“This is A-Qing,” Song Lan said, introducing the girl.

A-Yuan offered her a shy smile and received one in return.

He led them through the house into what he called “the bunny room.” He wasn’t kidding. The room was bunny paradise, with a home-made run built using shelves on the walls, multiple hutches, a feeding and eating area, an area of litter boxes, and a prodigious number of toys.

A man in sunglasses was sedately petting one of the bunnies in the midst of it all.

“The Wei family?” he asked, putting down the rabbit and standing to greet them.

“Yeah, baba,” A-Qing answered. “They’re husbands like you and die, and they have a kid, too.”

He held out his hand to shake, and Wei Ying took it first, then A-Zhan. Even A-Yuan reached up and gave a little handshake. The man laughed softly at that. He realized belatedly he should probably introduce them.

“I’m Wei Ying, my husband is Wei Zhan, and then there’s A-Yuan, our son.”

The man nodded and smiled.

“I’m Xiao Xingchen, or as you know me online, SongXiao. My husband helps with that part.”

“And me!” A-Qing added.

“Ah, I can’t forget my tech support, A-Qing and A-Yang. You’ve met our daughter.”

“A-Yang is my brother and he’s a brat but he’s not home right now,” A-Qing said.

“And, of course, there are the bunnies,” Song Lan added.

They sat on the floor with Xiao Xingchen as he gestured for them to do, while Song Lan and A-Qing opened one of the hutches. That was all they really needed to do, as the bunnies made their way to freedom quickly. They were tiny, and if the guides Wei Ying had read were right, would likely only grow to be 3-4 pounds.

One of the black bunnies immediately began hopping around the room at high speed when it was free, jumping around as though in joy.

“That one’s like you, a-die,” A-Yuan commented, and Wei Ying laughed.

A-Qing reached in for a few stragglers and then joined them on the floor, putting one in A-Yuan’s lap as she sat down. Song Lan came with the mother rabbit, whose coat was fully black.

“Fuxue had a litter of six this time around,” Song Lan told them. “Three of each sex.”

There was one brown, two black, and three of different shades of gray.

“They all have gentle dispositions,” Xiao Xingchen added. “Though one of the females is quite energetic, as you noticed.”

A-Yuan pet the one in his lap, a light gray one Song Lan told them was a lilac color. A-Qing put the other light gray one in Wei Ying’s lap, and he couldn’t stop himself from cooing softly at it as his fingers met its soft fur.

“Since we bred her with a lilac, we also have the one blue and the chocolate. Lilac is the light gray, blue is the darker,” Song Lan explained.

The blue was hopping around after the energetic black bunny, at a slower pace. The chocolate kit was approaching A-Zhan with hesitant curiosity. The less energetic black one hopped up to Xiao Xingchen, clearly looking for his familiarity, and hopped into his lap.

He picked it up gently.

“Who doesn’t have a bunny yet?” he asked.

The chocolate was next to A-Zhan’s leg, nosing at the hand he held out. When he pet it, the kit closed its eyes, flopped over, and exposed its belly. When he gently picked it up, it offered no resistance.

“I think it likes you, A-Zhan,” Wei Ying joked. “We all have bunnies. A-Yuan and I have the lilacs, and the chocolate has fallen in love with my husband.”

“He loves to be pet,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Especially if you rub gently right between his ears.”

“The black and lilac are one boy, one girl each. The blue is female,” Song Lan added.

Xiao Xingchen discussed what to expect in terms of personality and needed care, along with specifics about the breed. Most of the details were ones Wei Ying had read online, but some were based on experience with rabbits.

They passed around the four they were holding so they could each meet them, and eventually the blue was curious enough to wander over. But the energetic black needed to be caught by A-Qing.

“She’s really sassy,” A-Qing told them.

“Definitely a big personality,” Xiao Xingchen agreed.

The chatting about bunnies gave way to other chatter—Xiao Xingchen revealed he had lost his eyesight during an illness that had infected the optic nerve, and they had adopted A-Qing because her ocular albinism meant she also had difficulty seeing. Since they had already adapted to his blindness and the agency had labeled her unadoptable, they took her in.

“Honestly, I grew up partly in the system,” he said. “I couldn’t leave her.”

“I did, too,” Wei Ying admitted.

“I inherited this home from my adoptive mother, Baoshan Sanren.”

Wei Ying gasped, and he could feel A-Zhan looking at him in concern.

“She was my mother’s mom,” he said, not able to stop himself from staring. “Cangse Sanren. She and Dad died when I was four.”

“Goodness, what a small world! She had already left for college when I was adopted, so I didn’t get to know her well. I guess that would make me your jiujiu?”

Wei Ying grinned, poking A-Yuan gently.

“A-Yuan, that means Xiao Xingchen is your jiuye, and A-Qing is your tangjie.”

A-Qing looked thrilled.

“I get a cousin? Score!”

Wei Ying could only guess she didn’t have much extended family, and he was glad to add to their found family. A-Yuan had many Wen uncles and aunts and cousins, but he was just as excited. The kids huddled together to talk.

“Definitely a small world,” A-Zhan said.

“Smaller still,” Song Lan said. “I freelance now, but I used to work in the tech industry, so I recognize your names.”

Wei Ying focused on the rabbit in his lap, the chocolate who was sprawled out and nuzzling against his hand, feeling taut and anxious.

“It obviously wasn’t you,” he continued quickly. “But I decided not to work with the major companies after seeing what they would do to their own.”

“They didn’t see me as their own,” Wei Ying said, shaking his head, hating the feeling rising in his chest.

Silence fell among them, interrupted by the kids chattering nearby. It was clear Xiao Xingchen didn’t know what they were talking about, but Song Lan could explain later.

“A-Ying found his family,” A-Zhan said after a moment. “As did I.”

“I would be honored to be a part of it,” Xiao Xingchen said. “It is good to finally meet my waisheng.”

The discomfort passed, Xiao Xingchen filling the silence with stories of his adoptive mother, the stories he knew of Wei Ying’s mother, the tales soothing his anxiety. The bunny in his lap helped, it’s warmth and nuzzling relaxing.

Eventually Xiao Xingchen asked the big question.

“Which of the bunnies appealed to you?”

Wei Ying and A-Zhan exchanged a glance before they turned to A-Yuan.

“The brown one,” A-Yuan said immediately. “He cuddles.”

The same one Wei Ying was fond of, currently in his lap. A-Zhan nodded his agreement.

“He’s on my lap nuzzling me now,” Wei Ying said.

“Any ideas on names yet?” Song Lan asked.

“Turmeric or Nutmeg,” A-Yuan supplied. “They’re warm, like him.”

“Not Cinnamon?” Wei Ying asked teasingly.

“No. I bet everyone names brown rabbits Cinnamon.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed.

“Well, you’ll probably figure out what spice is most like him as you get to know him better.”

They packed up the bunny, A-Qing taking him around to say goodbye to each of his siblings and mother. Xiao Xingchen insisted on giving them the friends and family discount, and they exchanged numbers so they could find more time to get to know each other.

The drive home was quiet, punctuated with chatter by A-Yuan about A-Qing and Turmeric or Nutmeg.

The bunny took to his new home well, seemingly happy with the space and toys and food, and they watched him and played with him for hours until he eventually entered the hutch and climbed into the hammock.

A-Yuan was yawning and dinner hadn’t been made, so A-Zhan ordered pizza, something they rarely did, which made it a treat. While they ate, A-Yuan told them solemnly the bunny’s name was Turmeric. Wei Ying asked if his middle name was Nutmeg, and A-Yuan smiled widely and nodded, and thus Turmeric Nutmeg Wei became their newest family member.

By the time A-Yuan was fed and bathed and tucked in, he was ready to fall right to sleep, and Wei Ying was able to snuggle on the sofa with A-Zhan with a little time left before bed.

“You found more family,” A-Zhan said, smiling softly, lacing their hands together.

“We found more family,” Wei Ying corrected. “What’s mine is yours, xinai.”

He scooted closer to A-Zhan until he was almost in his lap. The events of earlier were on his mind, the mysterious phone call, what it might mean. He knew his husband was concerned. Even if the silence between them was comfortable, he worried about A-Zhan.

“Did you want to call your brother?” he asked.

A-Zhan shook his head, then leaned in for a kiss.

“No. Today is for family. I want to take you to bed.”

Even after five years, when A-Zhan said things like that Wei Ying melted.

When A-Zhan pulled him up and tugged him toward their bedroom, he hindered him a little with kisses, but they eventually made it.

In the morning they would learn Wei Ying had been proven innocent; the culprit was actually Lan Xichen’s fiance, Meng Yao. His scion Su She took the opportunity to frame Wei Ying out of jealousy, wanting A-Zhan for himself.

The bad year at Nie Industries was caused by the very same code, undiscovered until a large number shares were suddenly liquidated and stocks plummeted, until millions of dollars were syphoned from corporate accounts and disappeared. Nie Huaisang had put the pieces together, had worked with the FBI and proved it was Meng Yao working on behalf of Jin Enterprises at the behest of his father.

Later, Gusu Lan Tech would ask A-Zhan to return home to chair the board after a vote of no confidence in Lan Xichen, and he would tell them no. He was part of Dafan Applications now, he had a home, and he was happy where he was.

Later, the Wei family might consider responding to overtures from the families they once had.

Tonight they didn’t have that knowledge.

Tonight was for family, and right then was for A-Zhan and Wei Ying, with no room for anything outside of their home.

22 notes · View notes

bloodys44 · 4 years

Text

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

I just posted chapter 9 on FF.net so please feel free to read ahead if you enjoy :)

Chapter 6: The Letters To A Ghost

788

(25th day of summer)

Mom,

I helped Natsu dig a grave for Lissana today. He was extremely adamant about it even though we were never able to retrieve her body. Not to mention that we already held a service for her weeks ago. He dug it by hand at her favorite lookout, told me he wanted her soul to rest where she would never miss the sun rise or set. The headstone he made her read "An angel who falls may now pass to the home of their gods. A forever sunrise to lighten the lives of the dark." It was beautiful Mama, Natsu worked really hard on it.

He didn't sleep in my dorm last night for the first time since we came home. I went by his room to check on him but I heard him crying. In all the years I've known Natsu, I've only seen that once, when we lost her initially. He sounded so sad, It broke my heart. I was too scared to go in so I left him for the night. I really miss her too.

Remembering your warm hugs,

Lucy.

(86th day of summer)

Dear Mom,

Today was really hard, I miss you.

It's been two months since I last wrote to you. Natsu went out on his first job since Lissana today. He wouldn't take me with him no matter how much I begged. He's never left me behind before, I know it was only one job, but it still stung. He barely speaks anymore, just follows me around silently. I feel like I'm losing my partner. Gray and Levy say I need to give him time and space, that he likes to grieve alone. I get that Mama, I really do, but he isn't the only one grieving. I feel like he died with her in the mine. I miss him too.

He still gave me some of the reward money even though he did the request alone. I wish he wouldn't, it feels like pitty. I don't want his pity, I just want to talk to him like I used too.

Mira is still having nightmares. I've been sleeping on the terrace by my room. Her crying breaks my heart and I fear it will never heal if I keep listening.

This was a bad letter, sorry Mom,

Lucy.

(43rd day of fall)

Mom,

I almost destroyed grandmother Anna's book today. The sight of it turns my stomach, and I haven't been able to open it yet. Natsu wouldn't let me ruin it though, he told me if it was gone the whole trip would be worth nothing. He's right, I know. I just want the hurt to stop.

Fall is here now, I love how the grounds look with all the autumn colors. Though I miss the pink cherry blossoms, they remind me of Natsu's hair, but I think his shade is fading too. He stresses too much. I think you would still like it.

Love always,

Lucy.

(58th day of winter)

Mama,

Today was good. It was Juvia's birthday. The guild held a small party for her, it was perfect considering the mourning mood that's dulled the air. There were smiles and cake, and everybody was laughing again, just like old times, I loved it. Gray asked her to be his girlfriend, finally. I think that's the part she loved the most. They're leaving on a mission that's supposed to take around four months. Knowing her, Juvia will treat every second like an extended honeymoon. She really was ecstatic mama, I wish you could have seen the joy on her face. I think everyone could feel it, I even saw Mira dancing slowly in the corner with her husband Laxus. She hasn't left her room since we told her what happened. I hope she's starting to feel like herself again. It's almost the new year, so maybe things will start to get better for everyone.

Natsu didn't show, of course. He hasn't been around much lately. He's always working alone or hiding around the castle where I can't find him, not even at our special clearing in the forest, the one he found me in. That's where he always used to hide. I haven't spoken much more than a sentence to him in weeks. I really miss him. Even with the happiness of today, I feel really alone again. He doesn't stay the night with me anymore.

Lucy.

(64th day of winter)

Dear Mom,

Gray and Juvia left on their job this morning. We all went down to the gate to wave them off. Even Natsu showed up, rare but welcomed. Gray is his best friend, and even though they haven't talked much either, I think he's going to miss him.

I asked Natsu if he wanted to take a job with me. It's been a while and I'm running out of money and I refuse to accept any more of his. I keep having to pick up extra shifts with the infirmary to keep up with my guild fees. He said no. I got mad and stormed off like a child.

He came to my room later in the night for the first time in months. I thought he was coming to tell me he changed his mind, that he wanted to take a request with me, though it ended up being the exact opposite. He came in yelling, spouting off that he couldn't take me on a job because I couldn't protect myself and he wasn't capable of doing it either. He rambled on for almost an hour, he's never yelled at me before, and mama he was screaming. But I decided I really didn't mind, its the most I've heard him speak in months. It wasn't near as bad as father used to make it. I was just happy to hear his voice again.

Merry Christmas,

Lucy.

-789-

(74th day of winter)

Mama,

He's gone.

He really did it. He left me alone for real. And god Mama, winter is so cold without him.

He visited me last night, I woke to him sitting at the end of my bed. It startled me since he hadn't been back to my room since he came in yelling. He looked so sad, his lips were pressed together like he was scared to speak the words trapped in his head. He crawled up beside me, just sitting there staring as if he could see right through me. He was so close, I could feel the heat of his breath over my nose. His eyes so dark they blended with the night. Eventually, I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't answer, instead, he leaned in closer. He tried to kiss me, but I moved away. I really couldn't believe it, that he would have the audacity to try something like that after months without so much as a word. This visit was my turn to yell. I said things I would have never imagined saying to him, to my favorite person alive.

I went to his room later, I felt so bad for how I had spoken to him, I wanted to apologize. When I got there his room was empty, mattress stripped clean and drawers pulled open and bare. I think he was trying to kiss me goodbye. I'm so scared he won't come back Mama. I think he really did die that day in the mine.

Lucy.

(76th day of spring)

Hey Mom,

Gray and Juvia came back today, half a month early. They ran into some trouble, a man with metal clawed gloves dipped in some sort of poison. Gray's okay, but Juvia is really sick. He says she hasn't woken for three days. He's really worried about her, I can tell from the way his hands shake. He hasn't left her bedside all day. It's sweet, but it reminded me of Natsu. I miss when he used to spend the night.

I haven't heard from him, not even a letter. I hope he's okay.

Love from your dearest,

Lucy.

(86th day of spring)

Dear Mom,

Spring always reminds me of you, I remember how much it was your favorite, even though I always preferred summer. I miss when we strolled the garden together and the only thing to worry about was not fraying my gown or scuffing my shoes.

Juvia still hasn't woken up yet, and I think Gray is starting to panic. He's going on lots of jobs, says he can't stay on the grounds too long or he starts to worry about her. I offered to be his new 'in-term' partner while he waits for her to get better. I really need to make some more money, and I don't think Natsu is coming back anytime soon.

We leave tomorrow morning and I'm kind of excited, I've never been on a job without Natsu before. I think it'll be a good chance to prove myself. I just hope this doesn't make me miss him any more than I already do.

Love,

Lucy.

(32nd day of summer)

Mama,

Working with Gray has been really nice. He's actually a lot more kind and sweet then his cold persona would suggest. I think I can see why Juvia likes him so much. Gray listens, he's a good holder of information, a place to vent. He's held me while I cried and talked me through my nonsense brain. Sometime's he even shares his cigarettes with me. He's a really good guy, and I can see how much he loves Juvia. I really hope she wakes up soon, Porlyusica started warning of impairments the longer she's unconscious.

I'm glad Gray has been so good to me, it's nice having a friend to talk too again. I know Levy's here too, but she's always busy with guild work. The rest of the members are all amazing and accepting but it's just not the same. I hope he doesn't forget about me, or how close we've gotten when Juvia wakes up.

I'm really worried about Natsu. Mira says he's never been gone this long without at least a letter. I've been reading as many of Fiore's damage and crime reports as I can get my hands on. I pray that all the flame-related incidents are him. It gives me hope that he's alive.

Lucy.

(84th day of summer)

Hi Mom,

It's been a really long time, Summer's almost over now.

Please Mama, don't judge me. I think I made a mistake. Gray and I went too far, we slept together. I gave him all my firsts, and I think he gave me some of his. I regret it all, and I can tell he does too. We had an awful day, our mission was a complete failure. We spent the night at some shabby inn, the bed smelled like rot but we honestly didn't care. We both cried after and pretended we couldn't hear one another. Juvia's been in a coma for almost half a year. I think he's trying to process the thought of actually losing her. I swear I could taste sadness on his lips. I think we're both grieving the loss of someone significant.

I thought about Natsu the entire time, I could picture all his scars over Gray's skin. I pretended his icy breath smelt of cinnamon and ash. It's been so long, but I still think about him every minute. I wish he had been the first to touch me. I love Gray, I really do, but not like that. My body feels dirty even after scrubbing my skin raw.

I can't pick out any damage or crime reports that I could even remotely relate to Natsu, and his mattress doesn't smell like him anymore either. I sleep there every night. If he's with you Mama, please take care of him.

I love you, so much,

Lucy.

(49th day of fall)

Dear Mom,

I asked Gray if he thought I should dig a metaphorical grave for Natsu. He told me I was crazy, said he would know if that 'cocky fire pit went out'. I hope he's right. We don't talk about what happened. Ever. We just pretend it never did.

I've been studying telepathy, and I'm getting pretty good. And yes, I learned it from great grandmother's book. I finally opened it. I feel dirty knowing the thoughts of my teammates sometime's so I don't use it often, however, my new favorite trick is dream diving. I do it to Gray when we're out on missions and he's gone to bed for the night. I hope he doesn't feel violated, his dreams aren't very interesting anyway. The only constant is the cold. Don't ask me how somebody dream's in temperatures, he just does.

Other time's though, I try to reach Natsu. I'm not really sure how far my range is and I have no reason to believe it could ever reach him. I still try though.

Lucy.

(73rd day of fall)

Mama,

Juvia woke up. I'm not sure if this is good or bad news. She's unresponsive, constantly staring at the ceiling. Porlyusica says there's a good chance of more function after a few days. But the sight of her, so sunken and lifeless is nothing less than disturbing. It's shattering Gray's heart, and watching it shatters mine. He won't eat, it's been four days. I don't want to lose another friend. This year has been the worst.

Job requests are coming in fewer and fewer, all of Fiore is under such a heated eye. Royal guards on every corner, in every continent. It's nerve-racking to hire mages while under constant watch, and nearly impossible for said mages to complete missions unsaved. The streets are war zone's, the anti-magic forces haven't been this strong since the initial banning or the day you died. One day, I want to fix it, this awful divide of man and man. I tell myself your death wasn't for nothing. I hope nobody dies for nothing. Too much of valuable human life is wasted. Humanity is cruel I suppose.

Your's truly,

Lucy.

(50th day of Winter)

Mom,

A very merry Christmas to you, and to Natsu. I hope he's with you and not lost in the stars. Things have been getting better. Juvia is up and talking, she can even walk around a bit with a sturdy shoulder from Gray. My heart hasn't felt relief like this in far too long, I feel like it could burst. I couldn't help but cry when I saw Gray smile again. All it took was Juvia's mangled stutter of his name. It was such a pure smile, like he had decided to donate his soul to her. I don't blame him, Juvia is an amazing woman. I feel like I stabbed her in the back and I don't think the guilt for my excursion with Gray will ever go away. I wonder if he plans to tell her. I thought about doing it myself, but it feels unfair to confess how another tried to mend their grieving heart.

It's almost been an entire year since he left. I don't think I really believe that he's dead but sometime's it's easier to lie about it. Natsu showed me a whole new world, took my hand and cherished me with such open arms. I can deny it all I want, but I know I fell in love with him, his every feature is burned against the inside of my skull. If he really is gone, I won't forget him, but I think I'll be okay eventually.

Sending you love filled with holiday warmth,

Lucy.

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

#natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy #lucy heartfilia #Nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser

14 notes · View notes

dazed--xx · 4 years

Text

Beside you

Request: Hello could I have an arranged marriage with Jungkook with a bit of angst but fluff at the end. Thank you xx

Summary: "You may kiss the bride" The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me."

Genre: ANGST, light fluff, smut

TW: None

Word Count: 5,092

A/N: SO i know you specifically asked for fluff at the end but i dont think this is the end of this i might make a part 2 if part 1 gets enough traction any way. I hope you enjoy the few bits i did do from what you asked REQUESTS ARE OPEN

edit: REWRITE UPLOADED 10/13/2021

———————————————————————————————————–

““You may kiss the bride” The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me.” Tears begin stinging my eyes, as we walk down the aisle as an officially married couple, hand and hand, much to Jungkook’s dismay. We rush through the double doors of the church and disappear in the car placed in the front if the building of worship.

Once we got in the car Jungkook retracted his hand and the empty feeling takes over again. Jungkook doesn’t love me this is just a business inconvenience to him. IM just some stupid business deal, something for Jungkook to correct as he does with all his other projects, only difference is I’m not some company he can break apart and sell. I’m a person as much as he refuses to accept it. Since our fathers have agreed the only way Jungkook would be able to acquire and run my father’s company is if I become is wife as some type of fail-safe of preventing Jungkook from selling off the company and running away like he’s done so often after his business dealings.

At the reception Jungkook disappeared as soon as we walked through the door. To the bar as expected of him to drink as I’m in need of liquid courage to make it through the rest of the night. Slowly I make my way around the room greeting Jungkook’s family, as he sits with the vixen of a bartender, a sensual smile plastered on his face with a rum and coke in his hand. “Y/N you have to tell me… are you and my Jungkookie going to give me grandchildren.” His mother asks smile on her face, excitement evident. I feel the words get caught in my throat, GRANDCHILDREN? WITH HOW HE TREATS ME…...? HELL, NO THAT MAN IS NOT TOUCHING ME. As if on cue my eyes shift to look for Jungkook at the bar but he and the bartender are no longer there. Of fucking course, he took HER somewhere to fuck at OUR wedding. Almost immediately after your disappointment of a wedding, you’re shipped off on your honeymoon. You spend most days in Mykonos, alone Jungkook wanting to explore Greece with beautiful Greek women.

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

The last night of your honeymoon Jungkook crashes in your shared room drunk off his ass, a loud laugh escaping his lips as he shushes the mirror next to the entrance. “Fuck be quiet Jungkook don’t wake up Y/N remember” He scolds himself. You can hear the childish groan that releases from his lip “No I wanna wake up Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrow, at his drunken figure. Did he not see you on the couch? “Jungkook?” you asked confused. His head whipping around quickly; a huge smile plastered on his face “Y/N!! I got you wine and a couple of more things” He exclaims staggering across the room “I-I shouldn’t be the only one having fun on our honeymoon right” taking a seat right next to you on the couch as he drops a brown bag in your lap. “O-oh um” “Please.... I wanna have fun with you, it’s so boring to keep talking to people I don’t understand and don’t understand me.” You sit there in shock just staring at his openly chatty self “Please take some shots get drunk with me you never let loose” He begs as he reaches in the bag on your lap pulling out some nips.

After a while you and Jungkook find your drunken selves on the beach, Jungkook laughing as you struggle to walk with the sand beneath your feet. Music rang in the air from one of the clubs near your villa, “Dance with me Y/N” Jungkook exclaims as he grabs your hand pulling you into his frame. His hands finding their way to your waist, guiding them against his hips. A soft groan releases from his lips as your drunken form begins dancing to the music. Turning yourself around pressing your ass against his now hard member.

Both of you completely oblivious to the sensual way your bodies move against each other. Jungkook's hands firmly placed on your waist, His head resting on your shoulder as your hand reaches behind you. You find your fingers interlocking with his hair. His right hand wrapping around your chin as he angles your head so you are facing him. “I’m having a lot of fun Y/N” lips centimeters apart, the scent of whiskey, and vodka radiating off of him. ‘Brown and clear...You’re gonna have one hell of a day tomorrow Kookie’, you thought. His eyes drift to your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lips part slightly, his bottom lip finding its way in between his teeth as he leans in.

‘He’s drunk Y/N you can’t take advantage of that he would be ignoring you right now if he wasn’t,’ you tell yourself trying to find the strength to reject his advances despite everything inside of you screaming to let him kiss you.

You pull away quickly “I-I should get to bed I'm really tired” you state shyly as you rush back toward your villa. Jungkook’s trailing behind you, Once you reach your villa he finally speaks “thank you” you turn to look at him confused “F-for what?”

He smiles “Hanging out with me, I don’t know being my friend even though I don’t really deserve it” You look at him sadly “You’ve been going through a lot being forced to marry someone you don’t love or can't even stand” He furrows his brows as he shakes his head “I can stand you Y/N, What I can’t stand is the fact that my father cares so little about me that he basically sold me off to your family. You had nothing to do with that you were a pawn in this just as much as I was” You nod slightly “I want us to try to be friends again, Jungkook” He rubs the back of his head looking at the ground “We haven’t been friends this entire time”

“No idiot I meant like when we were in high school, except for the revenge porn stuff” You state matter of factly. You can see the way Jungkook shifts on his feet, anxious at the memory. “Oh- yeah of course you were my best friend and I really hated losing you like that honestly I was going-” You smile at him softly “Well we should get to bed, you’re really drunk and the past is the past we should leave it there no point in bringing up old possibly painful memories for both of us” You turn yourself around and make your way over to the bedroom in your shared villa. Since, you both have gotten to Greece you have been the one to sleep in the grandiose bed. You can hear Jungkook tossing and turning on the couch, since for the first time in 2 weeks Hes actually sleeping in your shared villa. You make your way out of bed and approach him “You should take the bed Kookie, you'll be really uncomfortable if you don’t and being hungover in an uncomfortable place isn't fun.”

“N-no” He slurs, “T-the bed I-is for you it’s the least I can do since I’ve been a dick” You shake your head rapidly, yes you were a little tipsy but Jungkook was FADED; You still can’t help the way your heart races at his politeness. “I’ve slept in it every day so far, I don’t mind the couch tonight” Jungkook crosses his arms and pouts “S-so you don’t want to sleep next to me” you stare at him confused “I-I haven’t the whole trip Kook-ah" “I know” the pout on his face staying there “I wanted you to though, I hated waking up in some random room or house with a woman whose name I can’t pronounce” He whispered “Why did you then?”

He groans as he stands up, grabbing your hand in the process and dragging both of your figures to the room. Jungkook continued to mumble under his breath. You can only catch the last bit of what he’s saying “I want to sleep next to you” you are about to say something when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to the large bed. “I want to hold you” He drunkly confesses “We used to cuddle all the time before; now you don’t even look at me and I hate it.” Youre stuck in a trance as he rubs circles on your waist. “I miss you Y/N I was so happy when my –hiccup- dad told me I was marrying you.” “You treated me like trash the whole time” you mutter. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you again, you only get hurt when I do” he whispers. “Jungkoo-” Your statement is cut off by his light snores and shallow breaths; He’s sleeping.

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

After your honeymoon you and Jungkook’s relationship has improved. He helped you move your things into the home his parents bought for us. Honestly none of us could even believe Jungkook actually came to the wedding let alone stayed in the house were supposed to share.

I’ve taken over the second bedroom to gain some solace from the hurricane that is his temper. There were days I would be greeted with Jungkook’s beautiful smile and the calmness would contain me. Others I’d walk out of my room and have a foreign object thrown in my direction. Jungkook and I would hang out on those days and talk until the sunset. Every morning I would have a cup of Jungkook’s favorite tea ready and set for him to begin his day properly.

One morning I woke up extremely early, honestly at an ungodly hour. Tonight, was a particularly bad night, after our drunken adventure in Greece, Jungkook's drunken form rarely sought me out. Tonight, I figured would be no different. Until Jungkook came in the house and began taking his anger at our situation out on me. “YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME. YOURE THE REASON I CAN’T LIVE MY DAMN LIFE FUCK Y/N WHY CAN’T YOU MAKE THIS EASIER FOR ME AND DISAPPEAR” He shouted at you, deciding it was best to just ignore him and go to your bedroom. I can hear as he slams his bedroom door behind him.

After many attempts to fall asleep fail, I decide to go for a walk. As I run out the door, the world outside takes me over. I didn’t even realize how long it actually has been since I’ve left the house alone. The autumn wind rushing through the air as you make your way down the street. I find my mind drifting back to the days before your family informed you of the dowery. Jungkook hates you for being his wife but loves you for being his friend. I don’t understand anymore. My feet just move as I drift deeper into thought.

The emotions I’ve been holding in begin to flow out as the tears burn my eyes. Finally feeling the pressure and change from this marriage. Losing track of time as I sit on a bench looking out to the Han River. The water is peaceful. The sounds of the city embrace me as I stare into the sunset. I don’t notice the hours pass until I begin to see traffic in the park pickup. I stand from my place on the bench and walk toward the bridge. Staring over the edge you contemplate jumping. Making everything easier on everyone. You feel utterly lost as the tears rush down your face. Shaking your head rapidly “no” you tell yourself as you make your way back, back to Jungkook, back to the life I no longer feel like leading.

As the house came into view, and I saw 2 unfamiliar cars in the driveway. “Jungkook-ah I’m back is anyone he-” I shout as I walk into the house only to be cut off by the impact of Jungkook’s body colliding with mine. His breathing is heavy and a sigh of relief escapes him. His hands rushing to either side of my head as he looked me up and down. His chest heaving up and down rapidly. His eyes full of tears that were threatening fall.

“Fuck I thought something happened to you” he says examining my face. “Where were you? I woke up and tried to see if you wanted to go get breakfast and you weren’t answering the door, so I opened it and you weren’t there your bed is made where’d you sleep? I called your dad, man. I called MY dad” He doesn’t remember what he said to you last night. I smile at him apologetically as I notice the 2 men on the couch and I give them a polite bow. “I’m sorry Kook-ah I woke up really early and chose to go for a walk. I lost track of time and only made it home just now I’m okay; both of you did not need to take time out of your day to come here” you gesture toward your fathers. You can see Jungkook's father is completely stoic and uncaring, you avoid your fathers gaze as his figure trembled on the couch.

“Y/N” Your father states just barely above a whisper as he looks you up and down “Dad I'm fine” You look at him, understanding his pointed worried gaze. “Y/N the last time you couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk I found you bleeding from your wrists in our neighbors pool” You can feel Jungkook's worried gaze on you. The awkwardness from the conversation growing around the room.

“did that happen this time? and you have no right bringing that up it is a completely different situation” Your words do nothing to soothe him as you shove past Jungkook and lift your sleeves in his face “I’m fucking fine” You rush over to your front door slamming it open “Please excuse yourself, I'm tired and would like to go to bed after explaining to the husband YOU forced me to marry why I tried to kill myself, I apologize Mr. Jeon you did not have to take time out of your busy day to come here” Jungkook scoffs and mummers something under his breath. I walked the men out of the door, ignoring Jungkook’s hard stare at the back of my head as I said my goodbyes and apologized again.

“Y/N” he whispered, you stood frozen in place at the front door. “What happened? Why’d your dad-” “It’s not particularly your business or your problem honestly Jungkook you’ve made it quite clear how you feel about me last night.” You cut him off curtly, finally making your way toward your bedroom “Y/N I was drunk last night I didn’t-” “WHAT ABOUT ALL THE OTHER NIGHTS” I shout “Look Jungkook, with the exception of our ‘honeymoon’ you don’t even want me around you drunk. You can’t stand to look at me and the ring on my finger knowing you got sucked into something you never wanted to do” Jungkook stood in his spot, trembling, “Y-Y/N it’s not like that-” “I don’t care anymore, honestly” You state curtly.

“I'm your friend Y/N, do you not understand how fucking worried I was when I realized you weren’t here and I had no clue where you would go” I scoff at his statement “Maybe if you actually put effort into this ‘friendship’ You would have known” A pout forms on his already saddened face. “You’re right I should be a better friend to you and I will be” He promises.

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

Since that day, a few months back; Jungkook requests for me to let him know that I will be leaving so he does not start another panic; We’ve also dedicated Fridays as our friend date night, which usually just consists of us hanging out at our shared house watching movies and playing video games. As I exit the shower, Jungkook stops me as I walk toward my room “Hey, do you want to go out with me tonight?” Jungkook asks shyly. My heart sored at the question; I know he wasn’t asking in any romantic way. I just couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of leaving the house. I hadn't left much since moving in typically spending my days home or working, no time to really explore and go out “Yes! I mean yeah sure that sounds fun” I exclaim. After I have my hair out, in a wet curly look and throw on the most beautiful form fitting dress that I own and make my way to the door. Jungkook is standing there waiting on his phone. His eyes slowly scan up me and he swallows harshly as his eyes grow wide. “Uhm… Let’s…” I smile at him and grab his hand and pull him out of the house interrupting him “Let’s go Jungkookie”

The club was fun, Jungkook told me to have as much fun as I want since I rarely go out. Even so, I never leave the bar as Jungkook can obviously spot someone so he excuses himself from me exclaiming he will be back in like 10 minutes and runs off to the dance floor. Anxious about the crowd and my sudden loneliness; I pull myself into a dark corner at the end of the bar drunk patrons around me oblivious to presence. Feeling a hand on my ass and turn to see an unfamiliar handsome face. “Hey, um sorry to sound rude but can you like take your fucking hand off of me” I say shyly.

The handsome man smiles and nods as he quickly pulls his hand off of my bottom “Sorry, I couldn’t get my footing with all the people I didn’t mean to…like touch you there I swear, I’m Mark” “Y/N” I say as I reach my hand out. He smiles and shakes my hand.” What are you drinking” He smiles “Malibu Pineapple” I reply politely. Mark orders me another and soon I’m feeling tipsy. His kind flirty personality only making you even more flustered, He smiles and places his hand on the small of your back as you talk. You check your phone only to see Jungkook has been gone for the better part of an hour; Mark’s deep voice pulling me out of my trance “SO… I hate to be THAT guy but are you here alone?” My eyes drift from my phone, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth. “Oh I-”

Before I can respond I feel a hand snake around my waist and the melodic voice I’ve come to secretly love comes from behind me “No she’s here with me…… her husband” Jealousy laced in his voice as he pulls me closer to him. “And were supposed to be having a good time together…without you”

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she was married. You know…since she was standing here by herself for a while, and it looked like she didn’t seem to mind spending time with me” Mark smirks sarcastically. The anger is growing more and more evident on Jungkook’s face. “Excuse me?!?” Mark shifts and smiles to me ignoring Jungkook’s ever growing angry form. “You trying to go somewhere less crowded you look really uncomfortable with how many people are here” “Oh I don’t know” I state shyly, stepping back a little. “What Y/N I'm just trying to be nice ill bring you home. I just don’t trust this guy you know? Who leaves their wife alone in a bar like this for over an hour?” It's obvious that was the last straw as Jungkook pulls me behind him as he punches Mark in the face. Mark returns the blow, Jungkook's large form stumbling back at the power the other man had. “You want to keep talking shit asshole” Jungkook's loud voice rings out as he charges Mark again. I stood frozen in place from Jungkook's forceful grab. The bar hitting my back. Soon security was separating the brawl and me and Jungkook were in the car on our way back to the house.

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

In the passenger seat I take in the details of Jungkook’s now bruised face. I shift my eyes back to the windshield, a pout evident on my face “Why was he with you, Y/N?” Jungkook questions the tone in his voice is obviously a sad and jealous one. “He just came up to and we started talking he bought me a couple drinks that’s all Kookie, I promise.” I whine. It’s happened on occasion after Jungkook swore to make up for not being a good friend to you; you guys would flirt and be all over each other, yet neither would make a real move. “Would you have gone home with him? Would you have let him fuck you?” He asks scared of the answer. “WHAT? NO! Jungkook-ah I swear nothing like that would have happened. I mean Mark was really attractive and I’m sure he would have shown me a great time but I just wasn’t interested in him, kookie” That answer seems to have settled him for now. The drive now growing silent. “Y-y/n?” Jungkook slurs “Yeah” “You ever thought about it?” “What?” I ask confused. “Sex, with me” He asks shyly. “Um Jungkook? How drunk are you did you-” “No that doesn’t count I mean recently?” He stammers out.

“Honestly?” He nods rapidly “Yes I need you to tell me the truth because I'm gonna kiss you and I'm not trying to get slapped” He confesses. My eyes widen at his drunk confession “Oh I wouldn’t slap you if you kissed me” He smiles slightly “really? Would you stop me if I touched you like I want Baby?” lust filling his tone as his hand placed itself inside your thigh slowly rubbing up toward my core. A small whimper is released from my lips. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth. “You want me to stop y/n?” He asks cockily. I shake my head rapidly. “You want my fingers inside you don’t you baby?” I nod rapidly.

“Don’t worry baby girl I’ll do that for you.” he says as he pulls into the driveway. He runs to the passenger door and opens it for me as I get out and wrap my arms around him. “Oh yeah Kookie? Are you gonna make me cum for you?” I smirk the drunk naughty thoughts take over. Jungkook wraps his arms around my waist and for the first time tonight I smell the alcohol coming off Jungkook. He’s as drunk as I am or even more so, he presses his chest against my back and I feel a hard shaft against my ass. He peppers kisses up the side of my neck until his lips reach my ears “mmm Baby girl, I wanna eat your pussy so bad” He smacks my ass harshly as he lifts me and carries me into the home.

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

I wake up in Jungkook’s bed the next morning, events from last night come rolling in. We had sex, 4 times, I notice the coldness on the side of the bed from me. I make my way out of Jungkook’s room and dash toward the kitchen. Jungkook is sitting at the table on the phone back to the entrance. “I don’t know Jimin we fucked like 4 times Jimin but that’s all she helped me cum and I helped her that’s all it was” “No I don’t have feelings for her, we used each other Jimin, it wasn’t like that this guy was talking to her at the club and she told me she wasn’t going to go home with him but let’s be honest if I wasn’t there, she would have gone with him and I can’t have some slut for a wife”

“No man I just helped her cum so she doesn’t start going out for some rando guy to get her off she doesn’t really expect anything from it. She just wanted to cum that’s how good little whores do it and from last night I know she’s one of the best sluts I’ve ever met so easy to get her to do anything for me cause she’s a sub” “Look I got to go Jimin before she gets up, I got to get he out of my bed before she thinks I want her there all the time…. dude of course I’m gonna fuck her again it’s one of the best pussies I’ve ever had……your stupid dude bye”

I rush to my room and lock the door. His words stab at my heart. Just some easy slut? That’s what he thought you were, because you let your guard down and gave yourself to the first person you’ve ever had sex with. Tears stream down my face as I hyperventilate a knock at my bedroom pulls me out of a trance. “Y/n-ie?” another knock “you, okay?” I shout from behind the door.

“Yeah…I’m fine” I hear slight shuffling “Did you want to go to breakfast maybe we can take a walk to Han River you said you like going there right?” His nervousness is evident through the door. “Um…Honestly Jungkook, I’m not feeling too good I’m like really hungover and I’d like to take a shower” to wash your scent and touch off of me. “Oh…. well can I join you then?” I shake my head no, god please no. “Y/N-ie? Babe?” my heart shatters at his words “Um I’m sorry Kookie but I really don’t feel like it” “Oh okay, um when you’re done can you come hang out and watch a that Invisible Man movie you wanted to see” “Um sure I’ll see you in a bit bye Jungkook” Jungkook’s face twists in to a pout behind the door.

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

After your shower you leave the room and walk down the hall “Jungkook?” before I pass his bedroom, I peak my head in and see Jungkook laying on his bed completely naked, eyes closed tight, stroking himself, moaning out your name. The sight is addicting I feel my own excitement building up at the sight of him. I try to back out of the room and accidentally slam into Jungkook’s bedroom door. His eyes shoot open and his hand leaves his member. “Y/N! I…UM…I WAS JUST….” I smile and walk toward him. “We’re you thinking about me Jungkook” I teased. He bites his lip “Were you thinking about last night or the fact that you missed fucking me hard into the shower” He sighs and nods “both” he mutters. His words from earlier out of my mind as I place my lips against his and let him take me for the 5th time in 24 hours.

The way he pounds into me, his hair stuck to his forehead. “Fuck baby girl you take it so good, look at your pretty pussy taking this cock the way you should…. hmmm that’s my pussy baby girl” I moan in response “yes kookie-ah only yours” My climax builds fast as Jungkook’s thrusts get sloppy. “Yeah, oh baby girl I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy” He exclaims as he captures his lips into mine. “All mine baby girl” he thrusts once more and I feel a warmth inside me as he kisses my neck.

He gets up and runs to the bathroom. A loud ping comes through on the phone

Areum<3: When are you going to divorce that ugly ass wife? Baby I got to spend time with you at the club but fucking in a bathroom then getting kicked out for a fight especially over her is crazy.

My breath hitches and swells up in my throat as I read the message. He had sex with someone last night right before he had sex with me, he took my mouth last night. Disgust fills me up as I run to my bedroom. Opening the closet, I begin throwing my things in the luggage bag. “Baby did you want- what are you doing?!” Jungkook stopped at my door, a confused look on his face.

“I’m leaving Jungkook” I state as tears stream down my face. Panic rises on Jungkook’s face “why? You don’t want to be here anymore? Did I do something? I can fix it I swear but you can’t go…you can’t just go when we….” “Areum misses you and you should focus on one girl Jungkook-ah” I cut him off and realization dawns on his face as he runs to his room to grab his phone.

The second the phone is in his hand he rushes out of his room and sees your retreating figure making your way to the door “Y/N-AH! DON’T GO PLEASE” You freeze the sound of his voice cracking “Areum is just some girl she’s not anyone don’t just assume because some girl texted me, she misses me that I’m going to run to her” “You were with her last night….you Fucked her last night not even an hour before you fucked me, my mouth”

Jungkook shakes his head “No it’s not like that I swear like you said I fucked her, Baby girl I can’t fuck you. I make love to you please I’m begging you don’t go okay I know we haven’t been the best but I can fix this don’t do this not when I know I love you please” I shake my head and make my way to the door as Jungkook’s sobs grow. “Stop please” he reaches for the door and slams it shut. “You can’t just leave, not after what we just did, not when I love you, please” I smile at him lightly and press my lips against his.

I feel his hands snake around my waist as he kisses me hard. I lose myself in his lips soon I reach for my luggage bag and rush out the door and into my car. Jungkook is banging on my passenger side window trying to open the door tears streaming down his face “please, stop, stop the car, get out please stay with me, BABY PLEASE” he shouts as I reverse and drive off the last sight, I have is Jungkook chasing my car with tears streaming down his face

#bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

262 notes · View notes

depressedkakashihatake-fics · 4 years

Text

Some Time Alone

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

1903 words

Kiss: Lower-Lip sucking kiss

For: @grumpygaybaby and @temarihime (if you want to read some Kakagai today lol)

An escape, at last.

Three days ago Kakashi left Konoha with his husband, and to say he was looking forward to a chance to unwind and relax after being handed the Hokage’s hat all those years ago was an understatement. He couldn’t wait to be as far away from all the responsibilities and expectations.

Unfortunately, Naruto had decided to throw a Kunai in his plans by sending one Mirai Saratobi along with them on body guard duty.

A body guard. The sixth Hokage and one of Konoha’s top Jonin, with a bodyguard.

He’d be insulted if he hadn’t spent the last three days pissed because Mirai refused to give him and Gai any space at all, citing her responsibilities as their guard whenever he tried to get her to go somewhere else for even just an hour.

Not that he blamed her. She was just doing her job.

This was Naruto’s fault and Kakashi was certain it was payback for him sending Genma to watch over the brat’s honeymoon with Hinata. Usually he’d let it slide too, but when it came to Naruto ‘trouble magnet’ Uzumaki, he had to be a bit more cautious. Genma had intercepted three different attempts to interrupt Naruto and Hinata’s honeymoon without them noticing and he should be thankful damn it.

But no, instead he was vengeful and now Kakashi was stuck with a 15 year old who was determined to prove herself and refused to leave Kakashi and Gai’s side no matter how many times he begged her for just a little bit of alone time with his husband.

Drastic times called for drastic measures.

“Are you sure about this?” Mirai looked at the bath house skeptically. “Isn’t there something else you would rather do?”

“No, this is exactly what i want,” it was a perk of being in a relationship with someone who was the same gender as him. He could go into a bath house and not have to be separated from Gai. “it’ll be good for us all Mirai. Bedside’s, if anything happens we’ll be right next door. You just can’t see us.”

The words didn’t seem to make Mirai feel any better about the situation. “Fine,” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that reminded him a little bit too much of her mother. “But if anything happens i’ll be there in an instant.

“I have no doubt about that,” he smiled, “but try to relax. That’s the point of this stop after all.”

Finally, some peace and quiet. Even if they weren’t completely alone, at least they would be able to relax a bit better without Mirai breathing down their necks, and maybe she would finally unwind a little.

Stepping out into the bath area, Kakashi couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited. It was better than he could have hoped for.

Empty.

The entire bath was empty. Not a soul to be seen.

There was no better outcome he could have asked for. A whole bath for just him and Gai. No one around to judge if he slid in a little too close. No prying eyes if he decided to take off his face towel.

No real need for the face towel at all really.

Seeing Gai coming up to his side, he glanced down towards the man he had decided to marry. The beautiful human he would spend the rest of his life with. If they were really lucky no one would show up at all until they were ready to leave.

He would get Gai all to himself.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You mind?” He took a step forward and turned to face his husband, one hand reaching out towards the other man.

Debating the unspoken question for a moment, Gai took one look at the bath waiting for him behind Kakashi and slowly nodded his head. With permission given, Kakashi closed the distance between them and bent forward, tucking one arm behind Gai’s back and the other under his legs.

With his hands in place Kakashi lifted his husband out of his chair with surprising ease. Perhaps when Gai had joked with him earlier that week about how he carried him around their home too often these days as a substitute for his old morning training regimes, he hadn’t been too far off.

“A whole bath to ourselves,” Gai chuckled as his arms came down around Kakashi’s neck. ‘What shall we do with all of this space, Rival?”

“Well first we’re going to find you the best spot possible,” Kakashi muttered, turning around in his spot and scanning the area. Picking out a small rock close to the edge of the bath, he started walking. The last thing they needed was for Gai’s cast to get wet. That always ended up being a mess that neither of them wanted to deal with.

“And after that?”

“Once we’re settled in and the water is working its magic on our old fagil bones,” Gai roared with laughter, loud enough that Kakashi was sure Mirai could hear him on the other side of the bath house. “Well then I’ll just have to enjoy the precious little personal time I get with my fantastic husband.”

Stepping down into the water, Kakashi groaned as his body started to relax. This was already the best idea he had all day, and he hadn’t even made it all of the way into the water yet.

“You look happy,” Gai commented, lifting his leg up over the water while Kakashi slowly submerged the lower half of his body in water. “A nice relaxing soak to recharge us for our next challenge. A grand idea you had, Rival!”

Another challenge was not something he was ready to concern himself with. Not when he had already lost the handstand race from their room to the front door of the Inn they were staying at, which surprised absolutely no one.

No, now was the time for cuddles and kisses, not talks about challenges.

Reaching his target, Kakashi positioned himself perfectly so that Gai’s leg was hovering over the rock and proceeded to carefully set his husband down in the water. Thankfully both of them had decided to forgo their towels in the locker room, deciding it would be easier that way. A choice made much easier for Kakashi since he had been able to get top surgery shortly after becoming Hokage.

An accomplishment made much easier to achieve without the threat of impending war or a constant need for him to be ready for missions looming over his head.

“Mmmm, you’re right,” Gai grinned. “The water is perfect. There is no doubt we will be able to do anything we wish after a long soak.”

‘Anything’ seemed like a bit of a stretch, but he was willing to let his husband have it.

Once Gai was settled into his spot with his leg safely propped up out of the water, Kakashi took a step back to admire his work, forcing Gai to release the hold he had on his neck.

“Are you going to join me, Rival?” Tilting his head, Kakashi thought about it for a second before reaching up to carefully remove the towel he had wrapped around the lower portion of his face.

Leaning over Gai’s body, Kakashi set his towel down right behind his head and smiled down at the Taijutsu master. Gai was one of the few people who never reacted when he took his mask, or in this case towel, off to show his face, and it was one of the many things he loved about the man.

“You’re cooking something up in that mind of yours,” Gai teased, reaching up to poke Kakashi in the nose. ‘Stop it. Bath houses are for relaxing.”

“And relaxing is exactly what i’m going to do,” Kakashi assured him even as he leaned in close and brushed his lips against his cheek. “Having fun is part of relaxing is it not, turtle?”

If anyone else had been in the bath with them Gai would have gone bright red at the use of that old nickname. Even after all of these years together it still seemed to embarrass him.

He claimed it was because it was only nicknames Kakashi ever used for anyone, but Kakashi was certain that it had something to do with the fact that Gai still couldn’t believe that out of all of the nicknames he had access to, he chose to hang onto that one. The silly little nickname he had come up with when they were fourteen years old, and had refused to let go of since then.

“A whole bath to ourselves, turtle,” He enunciated the nickname, chuckling when Gai shifted awkwardly in his spot. “There’s so much we could do.”

“If you’re suggesting what i think you are, i would like to remind you that you are a screamer and Kurenai will slaughter us if her daughter hears...that.” A fair point. The last thing Kurenai would want is her daughter finding out what the sixth hokage and his husband did when they were alone, and he did have troubles keeping quiet when he was with Gai.

Clearly the more risque activities would have to wait till later. When they were alone in a room. Perhaps Kakashi could convince Mirai to go somewhere where she couldn’t hear them. That was a challenge for him to face later.

For now though, he had a different idea.

Rubbing his nose against Gai’s cheek, he slowly made his way in towards his mouth while gently pressing smell kisses against soft skin along the way. The way Gai shivered under his assault was intoxicating.

The man who never broke.

Who had survived opening the eighth gate and lived through something that no one should ever have been able to live through.

That beautiful, unbreakable man was shivering because of him. He was weak, because of his actions.

Kakashi held all of the power in this moment and he loved it.

“My precious Turtle,” his breath tickled Gai’s skin, causing him to squirm just a bit under him. “So beautiful, laid out in front of me like the most delicious snack I could lay my eyes on.”

Gai snorted. “Snack? Did you get that one from Tenten?”

The answer was yes. Who else would he get such a ridiculous saying from?

Still, that wasn’t his concern at the moment, so he continued without a word. Making his way towards Gai’s lips slowly while he continued to whisper sweet compliments against beautiful skin.

Finally reaching his goal, Kakashi pressed a quick kiss against Gai’s lips before gently sucking his lower lip into his mouth, his hands coming down to settle on Gai’s chest as the Taijutsu master arched up into the kiss.

While Kakashi gently started to suck on the trapped lip, Gai ran his hands up his arms and into his hair. His Fingers settled in short silver strands, sending shivers down Kakashi’s spine.

Finally, Kakashi released his hold on it and moved back to admire his work. Gai’s eyes were half lidded and there was a peaceful, calm look on his face. The most beautiful picture he had ever seen.

“Perfect,” he smiled brightly “My beautiful Turtle, all to myself.”

“And i wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gai assured him with a fond chuckle.

#Kakagai #Hatake Kakashi #Maito Gai #Boruto Era #Vacation arc #i thought it was a cute arc to use #lol #Kakashi Hatake/Maito Gai #Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai #Trans Kakashi #25 Days Of Kisses

27 notes · View notes

slightly-nerdy-rambles · 4 years

Text

Robstar Week Day 6: The Start of Forever (Prompt: Wedding Bells)

I love weddings. They’re just these big, happy, fun parties! So for this prompt I ended up going full self-indulgent mess and just sort of jumped in with very little plan... and I think what little plan I had didn’t even make it into the fic, whoops. The end result is less a single cohesive story than it is a series of events meant to evoke a sort of snapshot of these dorks’ wedding, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

(Note: You’re going to see a certain character here whose presence would make the Royal Family Verse go very differently, as I’ve had pointed out to me. Rest assured that I have not forgotten him in that ‘verse, and simply have different plans for him there than I do here.)

The Start of Forever

Penguin was really not having a good day.

It should have been an easy heist, or at least a relatively low-risk one. The Bat’s brat was getting married halfway across the country, which meant the whole posse was out for a couple days. And, sure, he’d made the mistake of getting cocky while Batman was away before, but this thing was a big deal – something about alien royalty, he hadn’t been keeping track of the specifics – and the way he figured, the only buddies of the big guy who wouldn’t also be there were the small-fry or the newbies of the Justice League. Still formidable to common criminals, of course, but to veterans who’d been dealing with the Bat himself for years? His gang could handle it.

But now here he was, his thugs already captured, his trick umbrella wrecked, and fleeing for what was beginning to feel uncomfortably like his very life. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before –

There was the lasso. Before he could even try to dodge it, he was bound up tight and thrown flat on his face.

Penguin glared at his captor as she stepped into view, calmly looping up the other end of the rope bound to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding?” he grumbled.

Wonder Woman gave him a flat look. “This was the only way to convince my colleague it was safe to go. I was watching the ceremony live, and I’d like to get back to that, so let’s get this over with.”

With one hand, she pulled him up by the loop of rope around his torso and glared deeply into his eyes. “Where are you hiding the loot?”

********

“Yeah, I really can’t help but feel sorry for anyone who tries to mess with Gotham right now,” Wonder Girl said, pausing to take a drink from her glass. “Di might be tough in the field, but she loves a good wedding. I’m kind of surprised she even volunteered to city-sit.”

Batwoman chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Part of me kind of hopes a supervillain shows up there, if one hasn’t already. Not only would it make a great story, but it would prove the old man right about not leaving the city vulnerable and Wonder Woman won’t have to be mad at him.”

The two women shared a good laugh at that, before settling in to watch events around them. The wedding was a very… unique affair, which was inevitable when one considered the couple in question. Starfire was still technically Tamaranean royalty, after all; her marriage to a prominent hero (or rather, another prominent hero) meant too much for relations between her home planet and Earth to host it under the privacy of civilian identities.

Not that most of the Titans Network weren’t used to going around in uniform off-duty, but it made things interesting when fancy tuxedos and dresses were paired with the masks. The resulting “badass masquerade” feel of the party was oddly suited to both the many superheroes and the handful of boisterous Tamaranean dignitaries that had managed to attend.

Across one very active dance floor, over at the head table, Beast Boy and Cyborg were starting up a chant. They’d already had all their silverware taken away after one too many rounds of “tapping the glass to make the bride and groom kiss,” but this had only slowed them down for about twenty seconds.

Amidst an increasingly disruptive chorus of “Do it, do it, do it,” Raven leaned over to Starfire’s side. “They’re going to keep doing that until you give in,” she muttered.

Nightwing looked over from her other side and pointed out, “If we do, it’ll only encourage them.”

Raven shrugged. “Your call.”

Starfire just smiled and turned toward her husband. (Her husband! X’hal, that sounded good.) “I believe it all depends on whether we want to,” she declared, right before leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the mouth. His half of the table promptly erupted into cheers.

“Mmm.” Nightwing gave her that goofy little smile that never got old, and then stood up and held out a hand to her.

“Come on, let’s head back to the dance floor before they start up again.” His smile widened as he added, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather do it on our own terms.”

Starfire laughed a little as she accepted his offer, and together they made their way into the throng.

As befitting its hosts, the wedding reception was a mixed bag of American and Tamaranean traditions. In a general sense, there was plenty of overlap – good food, energetic music, and a whole lot of dancing. But it was still worth noting when the couple made their way past several tables of casually chatting guests only to come across a traditional Feasting table sprawled over with several Tamaraneans (and one specially-invited reporter who’d wanted to sample the local flavor of the royal half of the wedding).

The free-for-all had died down significantly by now, but one youth had planted himself cross-legged in the middle of the table and was munching happily – and completely in leu of a fork – on a slice of wedding cake. He perked up upon seeing Starfire, and promptly flew over to her.

“Sister!” he chirped, still clutching his cake. “This Earth dessert is very good! Do you think I can bring some back home after this?”

Starfire smiled good-naturedly and shared a knowing look with her husband. “You might have a hard time getting a wedding cake, but a normal one shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I can even give you a recipe Cyborg and I came up with that uses Tamaranean ingredients, if you would like.”

“Why don’t you join us when you’re done?” Nighwing offered. “Star says you’re pretty impressive on the dance floor, and I don’t think you two have had much family time yet.”

Wildfire grinned and nodded, but as he returned to the table, Starfire lifted a few inches off the ground and swung around to face Nightwing. That was another Tamaranean tradition – for the happy couple to fully embrace their rapturous joy by spending as much time in the air as possible – and one she was all too happy to indulge. A little impish smile crossed her face as she pulled him out to the center of the reception hall.

Oh, but he did look fetching. They had opted to dress in the wedding wear of each other’s cultures, and as much as she loved her lacy wedding gown, she loved even more how well it paired with the long, loose white sleeves and classic armored accents of his suit. Even his mask had been altered for the occasion – narrower and sleeker than normal, with a dark silver replacing the usual black edges and tiny flared accents at the corners.

“I must admit, I do not at all mind you having to wear such a handsome mask on a day like today,” she thought out loud, pulling close to him as the two began to move in beat with the music. Then, leaning in and speaking in a voice too low for anyone but him to hear, she added, “I wouldn’t mind if you continue to wear it tonight, either.”

Nightwing smirked at that, resting a hand on the back of her neck and pressing his forehead against hers as he twirled her around the dance floor. “Sorry Your Highness, but I fully intend to see you properly for our wedding night.” He considered that train of thought for a moment. “Although we might be able to bring it on the honeymoon.”

Starfire held back a snort of laughter, instead schooling her face into a mock pout. “It is less fun when you refuse to be flustered.”

A little smile crept into the edge of her expression. “And this is a poor time to start calling me ‘Highness.’ You’re technically a prince now.”

Nightwing’s smile broadened. “I still can’t quite get over the thought of that. Please feel free to remind me whenever you like.”

Now Starfire did laugh. Rising a little higher from the floor, she wrapped both arms around his waist and looked to him with a silent question.

Her husband (and thinking that was still absolutely delightful) knew her well – he just smiled again and secured both arms behind her shoulders in answer, allowing her to lift him off the ground with her. Together, they joined the flighted guests that twirled whimsically high above the rest of the party, sharing in the joy of their union for both their worlds to see.

#Teen Titans #Robin #Starfire #robstar #robstarweek #Beast Boy #Raven #Cyborg #Wildfire #I'm not gonna tag everyone with one or two lines we'd be here all day #The intrepid reporter may or may not be one Clark Kent #His coworkers still don't know how he and Lois managed to get an invite #Probably because she's all buddy buddy with Superman #lucky

37 notes · View notes

thoughtfullyyoungduck · 5 years

Text

Pain

A/N: this was requested by @reddie-fangirl24 thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Summary: Can you write a fix where Richie has to tend to Eddie’s wound. After being discharged from the hospital the wound still requires mending by doctors orders.

Being stabbed by an intergalactic monster, Eddie decided, was no fun at all. He groaned, trying to pull himself upright for the fifth fucking time, and he was getting irritated. It finally worked this time, though the stitches in his abdomen protested against the movement, and all Eddie really wanted to do was lie back down.

He was still so tired, even after a week of being discharged, and two weeks before that him being in the hospital. The doctor had warned him about the side effects of the medication, that it would make him dead tired and would make him feel like he was out of it, but the stab wound hurt way too much to go without it.

He was gradually taking less and less of the painkiller, but Eddie didn’t feel any more energized. He was crawling out of his skin. When he woke up in the hospital, both Richie and Myra by his bedside, he had mumbled that he wanted a divorce, before promptly falling back asleep. Richie later told him that Myra had a fit, and Richie himself had been freaking out, but all Eddie was aware of was utter and overwhelming contentment.

He had survived pennywise, claimed he wanted a divorce, and he was fairly certain that the man he had been in love with since he was twelve was in love with him too. Eddie was ready to jumpstart into his new life, to move out his stuff, to find a new job and to go on a vacation with his new boyfriend because goddamnit they deserved it.

After everything they had been through, they fucking deserved it. But it turns out that getting almost deadly wounded took a lot more energy than Eddie had accounted for, and so he spend his days in a haze, even despite the fact that he wanted to be fully aware of Richie at all times.

It made him feel guilty towards Richie, that he didn’t really do anything besides eat, sleep and get his bandages replaced. Which he couldn’t even do himself. It was Richie who needed to disinfect the giant scar just under his chest, and above his major organs.

Eddie didn’t really want him to do that. Not because he didn’t trust Richie, in fact Richie had never left his bedside when he was in the hospital, so he knew Richie was perfectly capable of doing it, but he didn’t want Richie to feel like his caregiver.

They were supposed to be in the honeymoon phase, the weeks were they couldn’t keep their hands of each other and would go on dates and actually do stuff together, but Eddie couldn’t. And he was getting tired and sick of not doing anything. Which is why he forces himself of the bed, stumbling towards the bathroom, hoping that the disinfect and cream lay there, because he was convinced he wouldn’t be able to walk towards the living room.

Richie’s t-shirt, in which he slept and so spent pretty much the entire day in, was sliding of his shoulders, but he didn’t bother trying to fix it. Eddie was already heaving, leaning against the wall with a huff.

He refuses to give up though, taking a second to prepare himself before walking forward again. He hopes there’s a long line at the supermarket, and that Richie won’t be home for a little while. If he saw Eddie out of bed he’d freak out.

When Eddie finally makes it out of the bathroom, he feels like could cry from happiness. He sits down harshly at the edge of the bathtub, wincing when it jolts his body, but at least he made it.

Their cat, which Richie annoyingly dubbed Mouse, much to his delight and Eddie’s annoyance, comes crawling up the bathtub next to him. For some reason the cat had taken a liken towards Eddie, and it was rare that Eddie woke up and Mouse wouldn’t be there.

Eddie grins and reaches out towards her, petting her soft fur. When Richie told him that he had a cat living in his house, Eddie had expected to be revolted by the furred beast, and he was convinced that the feeling would be mutual. Instead of that happening, he got home, and fell a little in love with Mouse, and Mouse fell a little bit in love with Eddie. Richie could relate.

Mouse looks up at Eddie, seemingly mocking him a little, as if she’s saying; ‘what are you going to do now you idiot’?

Eddie nearly laughs, thanking god that he’s home alone so Richie can’t see him being affectionate towards an animal.

He glances towards the clock on the wall, an ugly old brown colored thing that he inherited from his mother. It was the only thing he really took from Myra’s house, not because he was sentimentally attached to it, but because he somehow wanted to stick it to his mom.

Hanging something she was so fond off in their house, the house Richie and Eddie share, feels like a pretty big fuck you to her.

The clock just strikes 3 p.m., and Eddie knows he has to hurry. Richie should be getting home in tops 30 minutes, and though Eddie wouldn’t be able to keep Richie from noticing he had been out of bed, he wanted to be back in it so he could avoid part of the lecture.

The lecture he’s expecting to get from Richie doesn’t fill him with as much dread as the one’s from his mother and Myra. Richie would never make him feel the way they did, but Eddie knew that Richie would at least want to be there when Eddie tried to get out of bed on his own for the first time, just in case something would go wrong. But if he had to stare up at the ceiling for one more hour, he would have lost it.

He hopes Richie will bring the cheeseballs he’s desperately craving, maybe if he’s lucky Eddie would be able to stay awake long enough to watch a movie with him. Eddie shakes his head determinately, he has to focus on the task at hand.

Without getting up from the his spot on the bathtub, he reaches forwards towards the cabinet. He’s seen Richie do it enough times to know by heart where he placed all the stuff. He has a little trouble opening the cabinet, his fingers just too short. He contemplates getting up, but he’s already tired and he wants to save his energy as much as possible. Mouse jumps up from beside him, running out of the room. ‘Thanks for your help’, Eddie yells after her, but he’s laughing while he says it.

He manages to lodge open the bathroom cupboard, a towel falling out as soon as he does. Eddie huffs, but he doesn’t try to pick it up, that would require his body to bend way more than he is capable of doing right now.

He’s already thinking about how he’s going to pester Richie about it, trying to grab all the products he need, when he abruptly loses his balance. Eddie yelps, his arms thrown up, grasping at air. It doesn’t help, he fall backwards into the bathtub, and though it’s not that deep, the fall causes him to groan out in agonizing pain, his wound feeling like it’s about to be ripped open. He lies at the bottom of the bath completely motionless, his legs thrown over the edge. In the living room, Mouse yelps at the ruckus coming from the bathroom.

He must have blacked out for a bit, for he wakes up to his face being liked by Mouse. It says enough about how bad he feels, when he doesn’t even try to push Mouse away. Instead, he starts crying. He thought his wound hurt bad before, but he had never felt this kind of pain before. He furiously wipes at his eyes, trying to stop to tears so he can think with a clear head, but the pain in his back is all consuming.

He suddenly really wishes that Richie would get home. Mouse must sense that something bad is opening, because Eddie doesn’t respond to any licks she gives, so she lays her head on Eddie’s arm, which is curled around his abdomen.

Eddie would be grateful if he could process it. He tries to get up, but the pain is too insistent, so he instead lies there, trying to take a peak at the clock, but not quite managing too. He can hear his mom cackling laughter. Her delight in his pain. It makes him want Richie even more.

When Eddie doesn’t hear anything ten minutes later, he knows that he needs to get up. He can’t lie in the position he’s fallen in without damaging anything, so he takes a deep breath and tries with all his might to get out. He screams, his voice nearly giving out under the sound.

‘Eddie’, he hears a worried voice bellow. He’s siting back in the position he’s started in, just with way more pain than before. ‘Richie’, he says quietly, watching as Mouse runs out of the bathroom again. Richie appears but a second later. His eyes widen when he sees Eddie. For a second his face turns pale white, and Eddie is worried he might pass out. He doesn’t thankfully.

He runs towards Eddie dropping op his knees and placing his hand right above Eddie’s healing wound. ‘Eds’, he mutters, his eyes darting all over Eddie, trying to access the damage. ‘I’m sorry’, Eddie whispers, feeling embarrassed and disappointed in himself. Richie look sup sharply, leaning forward and pressing his mount to Eddie’s quick and soft, trying to reassure him. He doesn’t speak, which is unlikely for him. It stresses Eddie out.

‘Okay baby, it’s okay. I’m going to get you back to bed.’ He waits for Eddie to nod, which he does, before sliding his arms under Eddie’s armpits and knees. He tries to keep himself as steady as possible, which Eddie finds sweet, even though his attempts don’t help much.

Eddie grips Richie shirt hard, to help with the pain, and Richie sobs when he sees it. ‘I’m sorry Eds, I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel better okay?’ Eddie doesn’t nod, but he does believe Richie when he says that.

When they reach the bed, again, and Richie has manages to discard Eddie, he gets up again, shushing him when Eddie whines. He promises he’ll be back in a minute, and then he runs, actually runs. Eddie laughs despite himself, knowing that he doesn’t have to go through the pain alone anymore. When Richie comes back with a whole hurray of stuff. Some of it is his usual tend to wound supplies, but he also has ice with him, Eddie’s medicine, a couple of movies, and Eddie’s cheeseballs.

Richie smiles at Eddie, trying to mask how worried his feeling. He gets some water, and then presents the medicine along with it. Eddie hesitates, knowing how tired the medicine will make him, but then he’s reminded of how much his injury is burning, so he takes it anyway.

He shuffles up a bit on the bed, giving enough room for Richie to change the bandages. Richie’s hand trembles, as it always does when he might hurt Eddie. Eddie is starting to get worried that Richie is mad at him, because he still hasn’t said much since arriving. It’s then that Richie speaks up.

‘Why would you do that Eds? If you wanted to do this yourself you could have just told me.’ He’s not making eye contact, still focusing on the task at hand. Eddie’s entire body starts to shake. He sighs.

‘I’m sorry Rich’, he hisses when Richie pulls off the last part. Richie smiles apologetic, saying sorry, and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. It looks like his wound is bleeding a bit, and Eddie almost panics, before he realizes that it’s just the small scratch Mouse gave him that has reopened. He nearly cries out in relief.

‘I just didn’t want to always depend on you. You’re not my caretaker, and I feel really stupid about doing nothing all day and letting you do all the work. I just wanted to start doing it on my own.’

Eddie feels elated to talk about it, but he knows he owns Richie an explanation. He suddenly feels really guilty. Richie has been nothing but thoughtful to him, and he just said he didn’t need his help.

Richie smirks, and Eddie knows what is about to come out of his mouth. ‘It’s okay Eds, your mom always asked me to take care of her too.’

Eddie rolls his eyes hard, and Richie takes advantages of the Eddie’s distraction to pour the disinfection over his wounds. He turn serious all of a sudden.

‘I’m sorry Eddie, if you wanted me to stop being so fussy. I just wanted to help. Look how about this, you starts cleaning your wound, and walk around and stuff, and I won’t help you unless you ask, but I get to be in the house with you. That way if anything happens I’m here. I’m sorry if I reminded you of your mom,’ Eddie tries to interject, but Richie doesn’t give him a change.

‘But next time please tell me, don’t do stuff likes this when you know you’re not ready. If you want me to leave then I’ll do that, I just love you too much for you to hurt yourself.’

Richie seems like he’s tearing up a bit, and so is Eddie, so he tries to diffuse the situation. ‘You big sap’, he says too Richie, pulling him forward to press his lips to Richie’s. Richie taste like strawberry’s, and something distinctively Richie, and Eddie can’t get enough.

‘Of course I don’t want you to go, I love you too idiot.’ Eddie says sincerely, maintaining eye contact to prove to Richie that he means it.

‘Do you want to start today?’ Richie asks, grabbing the cream and new bandages. Eddie shakes his head, his eyes feeling very heavy.

‘No’, he yawns, the medicine has finally kicked in. He hears Richie chuckle, after he closes his eyes, and Richie gets to work. He can feel the cream being spread, and though it normally hurts, Richie is so careful that it feel kind of nice. It makes Eddie feels even more tired, but he tries very hard to stay awake. He wants to watch a movie with his boyfriend.

He falls asleep anyway.

He wakes up 4 hours later, when it’s already dark outside. He’s pressed against Richie side, having his hair played with. The pain is only slightly there. When Richie notices that he’s awake, he grins, dipping down to give Eddie a kiss.

‘Hey there sleeping beauty’, he teases, grabbing hold of three DVD’s on his side of the bed. He holds it up above Eddie’s head, and it takes a while before Eddie’s eyes can focus on the words. The shining, 16 wishes and Lilo and stitch. The choices are widely spread, but it’s something so Richie, Eddie can’t help but love it. He ends up chooses Lilo and Stitch, even though he knows he won’t stay awake long enough to watch all of it.

‘I’m sorry we haven’t been on an actual date yet. This supposed to be our honeymoon phase, what if I’ve ruined our relationship because of this?’, Eddie murmurs after Richie has put on the DVD, and grabbed the cheeseballs Eddie’s been craving all week. Usually, Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead eating in bed, but he knows that Richie would buy him a new bed of he wanted to, and he also knows he won’t be able to get out of bed.

‘Are you kidding me? Eds we’re hanging out all the time. Sure you’re asleep, but I’m not. I love this too. I mean, I hate that you’re hurt, but we are spending time together and it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. This is just as much a date as anything else is.’

Eddie smiles brightly feeling better thanks to Richie’s words. ‘Besides, the honeymoon phase? You mean the phase where you can’t stop touching each other? I’m pretty sure that has been us forever. Even when we were kids, I’m pretty sure that’s going to keep going, no matter how long we’re together. I swear your mom was so jealous when she says us together all the time.

‘And you’ve ruined it asshole,’ Eddie says, but he can’t help the fond feeling spreading through him. He’s lucky to have him.

#reddie #reddie imagine #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #My writing #reddie fluff #slight angst #like really really little #the losers club imagines #it chapter two imagine #Eddie lives

66 notes · View notes

merakilyy · 5 years

Text

Step, Two, Three

Pairing: Dimileth (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) Tags: Wedding, fluff, so much fluff aiyaaa Summary: The first time Dimitri and Byleth see Claude after the war is during their wedding. A conversation is had.

~~~

The first time in her life Byleth ever really got all dolled up with makeup and hair and a fancy dress and jewelry was for her wedding.

As royal tradition insisted, Byleth and Dmitri had very little input in their own wedding. This was mostly agreeable to them. With the war still in recent memory, Dimitri’s new kingly advisors all agreed to hold Dimitri and Byleth’s wedding, their coronation as King and Queen of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Byleth’s official inception as the new Archbishop of Seiros in quick succession so as to give the people of Fodlan joyous memories to hold onto. With so much rebuilding to do, Dimitri and Byleth had readily agreed to this succession, thinking that getting the formalities out of the way so quickly would allow them to return to their rebuilding effort sooner.

Dimitri and Byleth’s influence was limited to the date, a handful of extra invitations, and -- with Dimitri’s insistence -- the rings. The rings were the one part of their wedding where Dimitri refused to give in. Dimitri had been adamant for their mutual exchange of rings as equals and with the support of Houses Gautier, Fraldarius, Dominic, Galatea, and Charon behind him, even the most reserved noble did not dare voice their objection to Byleth’s elevation as Dimitri’s equal.

Given that Byleth was now a war hero and the new Archbishop of Seiros, any dissenters were few and far between.

Earlier, prior to the ceremony when she stood in before the full length mirror clad in all her wedding finery, was the first time Byleth could genuinely say she cared about her appearance. She hadn’t cared much for the specifics of her wedding, even leaving the design of her dress to Mercedes and Annette, but Byleth couldn’t help the pleasure that bubbled within her as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

Mercedes and Annette had pulled through with a stunning dress, even with limited supplies in the post-war months. White lace sleeves covered Byleth’s arms but a dip in the back left her battle scars proudly on display. The royal blue sash that cinched her waist matched the hue of Dimitri’s uniform.

Their coordination was such that Claude commented on it as he spun Byleth around the dance floor.

“So you and Dimitri, huh? Quite the pair you two make.”

Byleth smiled, allowing herself to express the full extent of her joy. “Are you surprised?”

“Me? Never,” Claude winked. He stopped speaking momentarily as he twirled Byleth away and resumed as she twirled back in. “We all suspected something between you and Dimitri back in our academy days. We all knew you were both too mindful of the rules and of Lady Rhea to do anything about it then, but there were definitely a good number of wagers on how long it would take until you got together. I had some good money on when Sylvain and Felix would get together as well. Shame that the war interrupted everything.”

Byleth’s smile dimmed at the reminder of the years Dimitri suffered alone while she laid under the rubble. “The war was unfortunate,” she said, reserved.

Luckily, Claude recognized the hint. “Ah, but we shouldn’t dwell on the past! This is your wedding and you look much too beautiful to not be glowing!”

Byleth laughed. “Well, Duke Riegan, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Ain’t that the truth, Teach,” Claude grinned, winking at Byleth again. “Former Duke Riegan, that is,” he corrected Byleth.

Soon after, the song came to an end. Claude stepped back and bowed just as Dimitri approached.

“Well, Teach,” Claude rose from his bow. Nodding at Dimitri, he continued, “I really do appreciate the dance. I didn’t think I’d be back so soon after just leaving Fodlan. Not that I had any doubt you would defeat Edelgard in the time you did. If anyone could stop her, it would be you, Teach. But, I mean, I just didn’t think I would have a reason to come back so soon regardless of the war. Selfish of me, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to be around for the rebuilding efforts. The best thing for the Leicester Alliance was entrust them to you.”

Dimitri stepped into their discussion then and Byleth slipped her arm around his, linking their elbows together. Dimitri turned to smile down at her before nodding at Claude.

“Claude,” Dimitri reached out and patted Claude’s shoulder in greeting, “I am thankful that you have put your travels on hold to return to Fodlan for our festivities.”

“Hey, hey, hey, no need to get all formal on me now, Dimitri! You know it would take a lot more than a handful of Almyran bandits to stop me from coming to your wedding. ‘Sides, when was the last time all of Fodlan had something this big to celebrate together?”

There was truth to Claude’s words. Unfortunately, this came at the expense of Dimitri and Byleth. In their rush to raise morale throughout Fodlan, the entire royal court at Fhirdiad and all of Garreg Mach had been scrambling to pull together so much in such short succession in just a few short weeks. Despite their lack of input, both Byleth and Dimitri were already exhausted by the time their wedding rolled around.

“Oh Goddess, don’t remind me,” Dimitri groaned. “These past weeks have simply been exhaustingly hectic with all the ceremonial planning. Would you believe that our wedding has been the most relaxing day for the both of us in weeks? And it will remain so at least until the end of the moon!”

“Wow, Dimitri, not planning to relax for your honeymoon? I didn’t think you had it in you, but you have my congratulations!” Claude wriggled his eyebrows in the most ridiculous, exaggerated manner.

Dimitri flushed at Claude’s crude implications but Byleth, having grown up with the crassness of mercenaries, simply laughed. Her free hand rose to rest on Dimitri’s bicep.

“No, Claude,” Byleth corrected, eyes still twinkling with laughter. “We will not be having a honeymoon. There is no time for one, what with all the ceremonies, and we will be travelling back to Garreg Mach immediately after the coronation. Then we will be taking a tour of all of Fodlan to survey the damage for ourselves and visit the subsidiary churches.”

Claude shook his head, “you two really are still the same. Always working so hard, working so selflessly. I really do respect that. After all, your selflessness is what got me out of my tight spot in Derdriu during the War. But I’ve got to say, Dimitri, marriage and kingliness really does suit you. You look much better now.”

“It is all thanks to my beloved Byleth,” Dimitri said gently, looking at Byleth with his love and adoration blatantly spelled out on his face. “It is thanks to Byleth that I have been pulled out of the darkness.”

Byleth’s expression was far more reserved -- though she felt no less love than Dimitri, she was still not the most expressive person. “You do not give yourself enough credit, my love,” Byleth said gently, her adoration as clear as day to those who knew her.

“Woah woah woah there,” Claude held his up before him and jokingly took a few steps back before Dimitri could respond with any further declarations of love. “I only came here for the food and festivities! And to visit some old friends, of course, but not to be victim to your newlywed hormones!”

Again, Dimitri’s cheeks flushed. “It was an honour to see you again, Claude. The von Riegen seat in our Assembly of Nobles remains vacant for whenever you so desire to return. It is good to see you well. Travelling suits you as well, as does the sun.”

“House Blaiddyd will receive you with open arms whenever your travels return you to Fodlan,” Byleth said diplomatically. She removed her arm from Dimitri’s so that she could bow to Claude.

“Hey, hey, none of these stiff formalities either! I didn’t come all this way to talk to a statue!” Claude drove his point home by gathering Dimitri and Byleth in a bone-crushing bug. Both Byleth and Dimitri reciprocated, laughing, unconcerned about any disapproving nobles watching.

Once they had said their farewells, Claude stepped away to join Hilda in reconnecting with their old house members.

For a moment, Byleth and Dimitri simply stood there, watching Claude’s back fade into the crowd.

Dimitri spoke first, “My beloved, as much as I have enjoyed our wedding festivities, I dearly wish to spend some time with my darling wife now. Is that agreeable to her?”

Byleth slipped her around Dimitri’s arm again, reconnecting them. “That is very agreeable to her. Let us say our farewells before we leave. And Dimitri?”

Dimitri tilted his head in acknowledgement of her address.

“I love you, my darling King. And I am ever so grateful to the Goddess for allowing us this moment and our future together.”

Dimitri pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Byleth’s head in response, his lips brushing her hairline beneath her new crown. “I love you too, Byleth. Thank you for giving me this happiness that I thought for so long was lost to me.”

~~~

Fluffytalk: This is kind of terrible and I’m embarrassed to be posting this but also I just finished the Blue Lions route. I’m now watching my brother play Golden Deer and I miss my Blue Lions babies and need all the fluff.

#fire emblem #feth #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #three houses #dimileth #dimitri x byleth #byleth x dimitri #byleth eisner #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #my writing #f!byleth #hello it's been a while #I kind of hopped fandoms

282 notes · View notes

random-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

In The Nightside of Eden {Rupert Grint x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru Wordcount: 2301 Summary: After getting in a fight, you leave your husband to sleep on the couch. The next morning, you try to make it up to one another. Warnings: Like one swear word, I think? Super tame.

For a recently married couple, you and your husband didn’t have all that long of a honeymoon phase where everything was peachy keen. As it were, even your honeymoon wasn’t ideal because as an actor who had a role in one of the biggest franchises in the world, the paparazzi were hiding around every corner, taking pictures of the two of you taking a stroll through the beautiful city you had chosen as your destination. It was amazing when the two of you were alone but the adjustment from it just being the two of you, to it being the two of you plus some of the major Harry Potter fan groups, was a bit rough, and caused you to be stressed most of the time.Although it was a source of frustration, you wouldn’t change anything about your relationship with Rupert, because even though there were times of squabbling, he was still the man that you were madly in love with, and pledged to spend the rest of your life with.

“For God’s sake, just pick a color!” Rupert complained, looking at the bedroom wall with exasperation. You had painted a couple of samples on the wall, different shades of your favorite color, which he had agreed with, but he hadn’t expected you to still have problems choosing. “Y/N, it’s been a week since we primed, I’d like to be able to sleep in my own bedroom again.” Around him were the furnishings of the room, but they were all covered in tarp and old sheets so that they wouldn’t get paint dripped onto them.

“I would be more than happy to pick one, darling,” You said, grating your teeth, “if you would just give me an opinion on what one you like.”

“You know I don’t really care!” Rupert retorted back. “I think they all look the same anyway.”

“I think they all look the same,” You mimicked with your hands on your hips. “You know, these are the walls that we are going to wake up with everyday, it matters.”

“You are seriously going to make a big deal out of a paint color?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. However, you were thinking the same thing about him, and your facial expression said that all for you. Whilst you were staring at him, Rupert went to the wall, closed his eyes, and just laid his hand on one of the swatches. “You happy now? I pick this one, can we just fucking finish now?”

Your mouth dropped open as he swore at you. The fact that he used it in anger had taken you totally by surprise. “I can’t believe you, Rupert.” You pulled yourself together rather quickly, and left the room before you would say something that you might regret. How dare he? He swore sometimes when he was telling a story, or when he was frustrated with something, but that was the first time that he ever swore at you.

Before you could even make it to the living room, you heard the bedroom door slam shut. It startled you, making you jump, but you refused to look back, refused to give in to his anger. Over paint of all things! As you made your way into the living room, you thought about calling a friend, perhaps Emma or Evanna, and asking if you could spend the night there but you weren’t about to be kicked out of your own home. Rupert had put in the down-payment but you put just as much money into the mortgage and upkeep and decorating as he had.

Love seemed to be a common theme on the television shows that you flicked through, trying to find a distraction from your mood. You were laid out on the couch, head on one of the many pillows that you had bought in anticipation of a house of your own, pressing down on remote buttons to go through the many channels. Rupert didn’t come out of the bedroom, not that you had noticed, and you were grateful for that. You knew that things would be better in the morning, or at the very least, you hoped that they would. Sighing, you tried to think of how you were going to apologize for getting so overworked about something as dumb as a paint color. Maybe you would take him out for ice cream - that always seemed to make him happy, considering at one time he wanted to be an ice cream man.

Rupert was sitting on the bed, sheets still covering up the blankets, looking at the wall blankly. You had frustrated him beyond measure, that much was true, but he was to blame as much as you were. Nothing excused the fact that he had swore at you, and he did feel bad about that. Your face stayed in his mind, the way that you had looked at him - the shock, the sob that was probably trying to escape. He knew you so well.

After a little while longer, he got up and approached the wall where the paint samples were, and really did take a close look at them. He hoped that by finally making a decision instead of dragging his feet, you may be able to forgive him for the curse word. Even then though, he knew he had to do something more.

Rupert had to make a couple of trips to the closet and back, because he figured out what your inspiration was for these colors. It was your favorite sweater, hung up in a place of pride in the closet so you could easily grab it. He knew it was your favorite, and he loved that it was, because it was one of the first presents that he had ever bought you. He even went as far as to hold the sleeve against the different colors and try to figure out which shade was closest to the fabric. Your sweater matched one of them perfectly, so he noted down the name so he could go and get more of that paint in the morning. That was the problem solved - right?

“I’m finally done deciding-” He said, leaving the bedroom to go to the living room, but he stopped in the doorway. He instantly shut his mouth because he saw you curled up on the couch, the colors of the screen lighting up your face, your eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” He whispered, seeing that you were sleeping. “I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t wake you up, it didn’t even make you move in the slightest. That’s what proved to him that you were really sleeping, because you always seemed to react to his words while you were awake. At the very least, he hoped that you would have acknowledged them had you heard. Ah - well, time for all of that in the morning, he supposed.

The first thing that he did was click off the television, making the room dark once more. You weren’t as light as a feather, but Rupert had gotten used to holding you in his arms. He picked you up and carried you into bed the exact same way that he had carried you across the threshold of your home after your honeymoon. It was by instinct that you curled further into his chest, your face against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. So he himself was trapped when he set you down on the bed in the guest bedroom that the two of you had been using until this whole paint debacle was over, and he was forced into laying down with you. Maybe not so much forced - it was always a pleasure to be with you.

He lay in the bed, wishing that he could at least take his socks and jeans off, but with the way that you were holding him ... it seemed better to be fully dressed than to risk your rage at waking you up. He almost laughed at the thought of you getting grumpy with him for moving away from you when you had been the one to leave in the first place. And then he looked at the walls in the guest bedroom and groaned internally. That was going to be another argument, more than likely.

It didn’t take long for him to drift off though, even fully dressed.

After the sun rose, you started to wake up and realized that you were in the bedroom that you and Rupert had been sharing while your main bedroom was being redecorated. He must have carried you there, you realized, sometime after you had fallen asleep on the couch. “Rupe?” You asked, reaching behind you in the bed to see if he had joined you, but the space behind you was empty. It was rumpled though, so perhaps he had been there with you during the night and had woken up early.

It took you a bit of time to wake up - falling asleep with strong emotions always made you feel extra tired, and it was hard to get out of bed. The blankets were tucked around you, and your heart soared that even after an argument, he still cared enough to tuck you in properly. Many people wouldn’t have done that, certainly none of your exes. He was a good one, and you smiled at your wedding ring, just as you did every morning when you woke up, thankful for the life that you had been given.

Once you were up and awake though, you wandered through the house and found that it was empty. A look out the window showed that the car was gone, and you frowned out at the rainy morning. Even though you didn’t know where he had gone, you knew that he wouldn’t be long, or else he would have left a note. Rupert was usually very kind that way, and since there was nothing attached to the fridge, you figured he’d be back soon enough.

That was a good sign. If you started to cook breakfast now, he might even be back in time while it was still hot.

Before too long, you were humming as you cooked some of his favorites - bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, making a big, hearty breakfast to work as an apology for losing your cool the night before.

Rupert had woken up early. The sun was bleak behind the clouds, threatening rain, but it was still bright enough for him to know that it was indeed morning. You had rolled over during the night, your back against his chest, your hair tickling his nose, which he had to blow away to avoid sneezing on you. He managed to slide himself out of the bed without much problem, and snuck out, closing the door behind him so you wouldn’t be disturbed as he moved around, getting ready for his plan.

He stripped himself of his outfit from the day before and put on some lazy clothes, as well as a hat and sunglasses to try to be undercover. He loved the fans, he really did, but he just wanted to go and get the paint from the hardware store, and not have to stop and take a bunch of photos. He left the house quietly, locking the door behind him. When the car started up, the engine starting to purr, he winced, hoping that wasn’t enough to wake you up. He really did want this to be a surprise, and it would have been perfect if he could make it before you got out of bed.

The store was a bit busy, considering it was hardly nine o’clock in the morning and they had only been open for an hour. He had to stand in line to talk to the paint department, and by the time that he had finally left with a can in each hand, forty-five minutes had passed. When he got to his car, a couple of fans did see him, and he took the time to ask them how they are, take a couple of selfies, and wish them a good day.

He parked in the driveway, and made it through the front door without too much noise, but once he was inside, he saw that he shouldn’t have bothered. You were clearly awake, and the smell coming from the kitchen showed that you had been busy. Sausage and bacon were the two main scents that made their way into his nostrils, and his mouth started to water. He had skipped breakfast so that he could go and get the paints, and now he was absolutely starving.

He set the paints down by the door, and headed into the kitchen where you were watching the toaster, waiting for the toast to pop. Approaching you slowly, he put his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. You hummed happily as he swayed with you, showing both of your good moods.

“I’m sorry about -”

“I apologize for-”

You both started at the same time, then stopped, and laughed at each other. You were so in sync, it was amazing.

“I made your favorites,” You said with a grin, a flush upon your cheeks.

“I finally decided on a color and picked up the paint,” He told you with the same look.

“Thank you,” You said, leaning back against him. He kissed your temple then let go of you so you could finish up breakfast, and he could bring the paint to the bedroom for an afternoon of work. You watched him go with your heart beating fast.

God, you loved this man.

#Rupert Grint #Rupert Grint x reader #Rupert Grint oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshots #oneshots #oneshot #celebrities #celebrities oneshot #request #rupertg

77 notes · View notes

ladylillianrose · 4 years

Text

Extraordinarily Star-Crossed a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

A/N:Thank you everyone for all your comments and support! We are entering the last era before we make it to modern-day! @clarkemanotp and I really do appreciate all your love for this story! This tale truly is a labor of love!

Atlantic Ocean, April 1912 Chapter 1

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 6

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 5

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 4

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 3

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 2

Paris, France 1792 Chapter 1

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 6

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 5

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 4

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 3

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 2

Florence, Italy 1485 Chapter 1

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 6

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 5

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 4

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 3

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 2

Greece 382 B.C.E. Chapter 1

The Underworld

"What I don't understand is how you found yourself in this situation in the first place," Mo said, threading a rather large needle.

"Someone didn't meet me at our previously arranged time," Leif muttered.

"Where is he, by the way? You all are normally back by now."

"I heard something about him falling in love with a mortal. He's probably spending her last few years by her side," Leif explained.

"Awww, our little Tobin, all grown up and falling in love. You think it will make him more mature?" Mo grinned, holding his measuring tape to Leif's torso.

Leif snorted, "Not a chance."

As though summoned by their discussion of him, Tobin waltzed into the room. "Bro, what happened to you?" he gestured at Leif's headless body.

Leif's head rolled his eyes from its position on Mo's worktable. "Oh, this? It's nothing just a minor run-in with THE GUILLOTINE!!"

Tobin winced as Leif yelled at him, "I looked for you when we arrived in Paris. You were supposed to meet me at the docks on August 2nd! We got there and you were nowhere to be found!"

Leif's head frowned, "No, you were supposed to meet me there August 1st! And when you didn't arrive, I was arrested and beheaded under suspicion of being an English spy!"

Tobin couldn't help the snicker that escaped his lips, "So, what you're saying is that you got there ahead of me?"

Leif sighed, "Here we go…"

"No, seriously man. I'm sorry we got the dates mixed up. But really, it's nothing to lose your head over."

Mo chuckled as he began sewing Lief's head back onto his body.

"Must you continue?" Leif rolled his eyes, trying his best to ignore Tobin's antics.

"I've got one more joke, though it may go over your head!" Tobin collapsed onto the sofa laughing at his own wit.

"And to think you're leaving me alone with him," Leif groused at Mo.

Mo made the final stitch to Leif before responding. "It's my turn to offer my expertise to our young couple. Besides, have you seen the hats they wore then? I was not going to pass up a chance to snag one of them!"

"On the off chance that things go wrong this time, we may need to consider a new plan to break Aphrodite's curse," Leif suggested, inspecting Mo's handiwork in the mirror.

Mo and Tobin nodded in agreement.

"I hate to say it, but it may be time to talk to them," all three of them shuddered at the prospect.

"If and only if, things do not go well this time, do we involve them," Mo stated as he grabbed his bag. "I've got a good feeling about things this time around," he grinned at the other two and walked out the door.

"Sorry about all those jokes, bro," Tobin apologized to Leif.

Leif waved him off, "It's to be expected."

"I hadn't even thought of them before, they were all just off the top of my head!"

Leif groaned, "It's going to be an unbearable era!"

________________________________________________________________

Queenstown, Ireland April 11, 1912

Cordelia Haughey nee Murphy stood staring in awe at the large ship, her eyes wide with wonder at how something that large could even stay afloat.

"Excited, Delia?" her husband Andrew asked, as he smiled at her. Setting down their bags he wrapped his arms around her waist lovingly.

Cordelia sighed, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her. She tilted her head and brushed a kiss along his cheek.

"I can't believe we're actually going to New York on that ship!"

"It's our chance for a whole new start," Andrew said, a slight frown marring his handsome features.

Reaching up, Corelia caressed his cheek, "Come now my love, this is our honeymoon. Don't let thoughts of the past cloud our joy."

Andrew's face softened, he kissed the palm of her hand, and lovingly ran his fingers along with her simple gold wedding band. "I'm sorry, my heart. I just wish…."

Cordelia nodded, "I know, love. I know."

________________________________________________________________

Their families had been against the match from the start. The Murphy's were a proud Irish family, rarely did they stray far from the land they had farmed for generations. Cordelia had been expected to marry a good Irish lad and settle to raise their family nearby, ensuring the next generation of Murphy's grew up near their roots. This was the way things had always been with the Murphy's, so why should Cordelia expect her future to be any different? But as soon as she met Andrew, she knew that fate had other plans in store for her.

Andrew Haughey had been sent by his father to investigate a small parcel of land willed to their client. Letters had been sent informing the landowners of his pending visit, but there had been no response, which explained the lack of a welcoming committee at the train station. Never one to be deterred, Andrew grabbed his bag and began walking down the dirt road. He had dutifully studied the map of the property in question, so finding the farm proved to be a simple task. He arrived at the farm, just as a young woman with hair the color of flames, stormed out of the chicken coop.

"Fine! Keep your damned eggs, you spiteful old biddies!" she yelled, giving the door a kick for good measure.

Andrew unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh, as the young woman turned, her cheeks flushed at her outburst being overheard.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea anyone was nearby!" she apologized, refusing to meet his eyes.

Andrew smiled and waved off her apology, "I should be the one apologizing, I didn't mean to startle you."

She smiled and looked up at him for the first time, his breath caught at the piercing blue of her eyes. "I'm Cordelia Murphy," she said, introducing herself.

"It’s a pleasure, Miss Murphy, I'm Andrew Haughey."

"What brings you out to my family's farm, Mr. Haughey? Your accent places you a long way from home," Cordelia gestured for him to follow her towards the house.

"Well, I'm here to speak to your father about a small part of the farm that was left to a client of mine," Andrew explained awkwardly. "I had written to inform him of my arrival but…."

"I see," Cordelia frowned. "Do you have a place to stay, while you conduct your business?"

He blushed, "I must confess that I had not planned that far ahead. There was an inn not too far back that I'll see if I can rent a room at."

"Father has gone to the city for supplies and won't return for at least a week. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay in the farmhand's bunkhouse."

Cordelia glanced at the attractive man next to her, hoping he would say yes. He was handsome to be sure, but there was something more that drew her toward him, as though their hearts already knew each other.

Andrew was taken aback by her offer, "I appreciate that, but I doubt that would endear me any further to your father if he learned that I was here with you alone."

Cordelia laughed, "Oh, I'm not here alone! It's almost impossible to be alone when you're a Murphy."

"Then where is everyone?"

"My mother just returned from checking on my brother's wife, she's nearing time for the baby to be born. They live just in that house over there," she pointed to a small house nearby. "Then there's my sister and her family who live in that one, just over the hill. And my younger brothers and sister still live with Mam, Da, and I in the larger house just here."

"You must all be very close with one another," Andrew observed, taking in how close all the properties were to the main house.

Cordelia smiled, "We are, though a moment or two alone wouldn't go amiss."

Andrew let out a chuckle and nodded in agreement.

Opening the door to the large house, Cordelia placed her empty egg basket on the bench and hung up her shawl.

"Mam?" she called.

"In the kitchen!"

"You can set your bag right on that bench there. Take a seat, and I'll be right back," Cordelia headed in the direction of what he assumed was the kitchen.

Andrew wandered around the small living room, enjoying the warmth and coziness it exuded. He frowned as he imagined the look of disdain his father would have at such simple furnishings.

"Who are you?" he heard a small voice ask from behind him. Turning he saw a young girl, roughly 5 years old, staring at him in confusion.

He bent down to her eye level, "My name is Andrew Haughey, what's yours?"

"Norah Murphy," she stated proudly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Norah," Andrew smiled as he shook her small hand.

"You sound funny," Norah said wrinkling her nose.

He chuckled, "Ahh, that would be because I'm from a place called Scotland."

Norah's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to ask another question.

"Norah Claire!" a voice interrupted. "Leave our guest alone, and come wash up for supper!"

"Yes, Mam!" Norah quickly ran to the kitchen to follow her mother's instructions, nearly running into Cordelia in the process.

"Come, I'll show you where you can get cleaned up. Then I'll take you to the bunkhouse after supper," she smiled at him. Andrew smiled in return, Cordelia's heart skipped a beat.

________________________________________________________________

By the time Cordelia's father had returned from the city, Andrew and Cordelia were smitten with one another. Andrew had sent a telegram to his father to tell him of his attachment, saying that he hoped when he returned home that it would be with Cordelia as his wife.

Robert Haughey was less than pleased with the news he received from his son. He replied immediately, stating that under no circumstances was he to bring some Irish farm girl home as his bride. He was to return home at once and Robert would send someone else to deal with the Murphy property.

Andrew was furious, how dare his father orders him around as though he were a disobedient child. He was an adult, free to love and marry whomsoever he chose.

Cordelia was facing a similar disagreement with her parents.

"I will not have my daughter marrying some Scottish lawyer, and running off to Lord knows where!" her father thundered. "You are a Murphy, it's your duty to stay here on our land, marry and raise a family!"

"But that's not what I want!" Cordelia cried. "That's what you want for me! I love Andrew, and he loves me! I'd rather be anywhere in the world with him than trapped here on this awful farm!" She stormed out of the house, racing across the field to the bunkhouse.

Andrew opened the door and Cordelia threw herself into his arms sobbing.

"Delia, what's happened?" he asked, concerned.

"They don't care that I love you and you love me, it's not what Murphys do. Being a Murphy means being trapped here on this godforsaken farm, never to have a moment’s peace," she bit out between sobs.

Andrew frowned, "My father shares a similar sentiment."

"What are we going to do? I won't give you up, not when I've just found you," she declared firmly.

"Nor I, you," he replied, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"We could leave, together…," Cordelia suggested, quietly.

"Start a new life somewhere else?" Andrew mused.

"Yes! We could get married, and find a ship that's traveling far away from here, where no one knows our families! Just you and me, a fresh start!" Cordelia's eyes sparkled as she looked at him eagerly.

"I've heard stories about a ship leaving next month for New York. It's departing from Queenstown, I'm sure we could still manage to book passage on it!" Andrew explained, quickly warming up to the idea.

"Then what are we waiting for!" Cordelia excitedly peppered his face with kisses.

Andrew laughed, "Go pack your bags, my darling. Once everyone is asleep we'll leave, and when we board the ship in Queenstown, it will be as man and wife!"

________________________________________________________________

*BWAAAHHPP!*

The ship's horn blasted, pulling Cordelia from her musings.

"I do believe that's our cue," Andrew smiled at her, moving to gather their bags. Weaving expertly through the crowd, Cordelia followed him closely, practically jumping with excitement. This ship would take them to begin their new lives in New York. A whole new adventure awaited them on the other side of the ocean, and they would face it together. As they boarded the ship, Cordelia felt a weight lift off her shoulders. They were finally free.

________________________________________________________________

A/N:

Andrew Haughey, a Scottish Lawyer (traveling 2nd class)- Max Cordelia Murphy, an Irish farmer's daughter, newly married to Andrew (traveling 2nd class)- Zoey Alexis Howard, an English singer and entertainer (traveling 2nd class)- Mo

#clarkeman #clarkeman fanfiction #max x zoey #zoey x max #max x zoey fanfiction #zoey x max fanfiction #zoey's extraordinary playlist #zoey's extraordinary playlist fanfiction #zoeys playlist #zoeys playlist fanfiction #zoeysplaylist #zoeysplaylist fanfiction #fanfiction #Extraordinarily Star Crossed

2 notes · View notes